


Recovery Room

by Kasen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Healing, M/M, Sheith69min
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-07-08 19:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15936653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasen/pseuds/Kasen
Summary: Keith is hospitalized after a tragic accident and makes a fool of himself post-surgery.





	1. Shameful Behaviour

Keith felt himself tense as Lance pushed him down onto a folding chair placed precariously in the middle of the living room. Pidge and Hunk both hovered on either side of him, shit-eating grins making the knot in his stomach tighten. He had no idea what he was going to witness, but by the looks of it, he would never live it down. 

Ever. 

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Kogane. Now, everyone, I bring you all here today to celebrate something very special.” 

“Lance, can you fuck off with the theatrics?” 

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t interrupt me, Mr. Kogane. I’m trying to hype this up.” 

“We’re hyped, dude.” Hunk countered. “You can’t text us saying you have video evidence of loopy, post-surgery Keith and expect us to come here not hyped.” 

“I get why you wanted us here, but I spent seven hours in back-to-back classes thinking about this video. If you hold back a second longer I might snap,” Pidge added.

“Okay, okay,” Lance laughed as he connected the television’s HDMI cable to his laptop.

Keith wanted to die, and the damned video hadn’t even started yet. He looked down at the cast around his arm with a scowl. His shirt covered the bandages around his stomach, but he felt the dull throb of his healing ribs as if they were responding to the unease in his stomach. Keith had been in a bad accident and needed surgery in three different places to realign his bones. He was lucky to be a student of Garrison U, a prestigious university known for their excellence in medicine and mathematics. The patched him up quite nicely. Despite the glaring scar on his face and roughed up demeanor, he was released from the campus hospital relatively quickly. What should have taken him a month of healing in the dreary medical room only cost him a week. Nobody questioned what they used to quicken the healing process.

As an aerospace engineer, Keith always had an itch to pilot; to fly. Despite the majority of his classes being horrendously boring, textbook-driven content, Keith scrathed the itch by driving his motorcycle through the empty roads of the desert, a few miles away from the campus. He’d go as fast as his bike allowed, and even do small jumps off angled rocks if his nerves allowed it —which, of course, they always did.

It was unfortunate that the one time he decided to do a more risky jump was the day Keith ran into another human being. Literally.

Keith stopped himself too late. The momentum of his bike’s building acceleration, added with the sudden press of his brakes, built a large unit of potential energy; the likes of which launched him forward and against the passing vehicle —another motorcyclist. Keith blacked out almost immediately after hearing parts of his body breaking. The sheer terror that ran through him as he heard a crunch or two from within sent his mind whirling. There was a strong taste of iron in his mouth, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot liquid of his cut cheek seeping into his mouth, or from something within. He didn’t have time to mull over it. The pain drove him into unconsciousness almost as quickly as his bike have driven him into the other motorcyclist.

“Here we go,” Lance squawked enthusiastically. He was no longer trying to play host. He joined his friends in giddy excitement and anticipation, despite being the one to have witnessed and filmed everything firsthand. Lance, Pidge and Hunk stood on either side of Keith, arms either crossed or palms rubbing together in anticipation.

The video started, and the surroundings of the hospital’s recovery room was clear almost immediately. Lance had focused the camera over Keith’s sleeping figure, who was bandaged up and had several tubes sticking into his arms, providing the liquids he needed to survive.

“Look at our little warrior,” Lance’s voice said from behind the camera. “We might need a handsome prince to wake this sleeping beauty.” Lance zoomed in on Keith’s disgusting face as he called him a beauty, and Pidge and Hunk snorted in synchrony as they commented on the eye goop, nose goop, drool, and his overall roughed up demeanor.

“Can we not call the guy with the permanently disfigured face ugly? It hurts,” Keith complained.

“Shut up. Your scar is hot and you know it,” Lance snapped.

Keith sighed. He did know it. He just hoped they’d ease off on the mocking so soon into the video. His gut told him something so much worse was coming.

“Handsome prince? Is there a handsome prince we could borrow?” Lance asked as his camera whizzed around the hospital room, zooming in and out of the older doctors and volunteers until he landed on a nurse that made Keith’s heart skip a beat. “Excuse me? Nurse?”

“Lance, god damn it dude. You are so annoying,” Hunk commented. But he was unable to hide the bemusement from his voice. Nobody would admit that Lance was a natural born commentator. His streaming tendencies mixed into his real-life habits, but none of his friends cared enough to legitimately hate it. It was his charming point.

Keith ignored them as the nurse Lance had called out to turned around. His heart skipped another beat. Maybe these palpitations were unnatural. Maybe he needed to head back to the hospital and have it looked at. Specifically by that nurse.

“Me?”

Keith clenched his jaw shut tightly. The Garrison nurse was unbearably handsome. He was taller and broader than any man Keith had ever seen before. He was young despite his hair being completely white. Keith gauged that he might only be a few years older than himself. The nurse cocked an eyebrow at Lance, the clipboard in his hand placed down on the night stand beside Keith, showcasing his broad chest slightly protruding beneath his clothes.

“What a fucking bod,” Pidge said after a low whistle. Keith nodded weekly in agreement. The nurse was wearing the proper attire, and yet it was easy to tell that he was ripped beneath the layers. What he would give to see the other stripped from the Garrison uniform. What he would give to see the other _strip._

Keith bit the inside of his cheek harshly. He wasn’t here to get aroused in front of his friends!

“Yes you, are you Keith’s nurse?”

“I am,” he said with a kind but curious smile. Keith wanted to jump through the television screen and kiss him. Specifically the scar he now saw stretched along the bridge of his nose.

And then it hit him.

That beautiful man was his nurse.

_SHIT._

All the blood drained from Keith’s face as he watched the camera pan to his unconscious self, who was now rousing from his slumber.

“Aww, baby boy, you’re alive!” Lance cooed.

“Lance I should kick your ass for being so unbearable,” Keith said through gritted teeth as he watched himself blink against the bright lights of the hospital.

“I was genuinely relieved okay? I say dumb shit when I’m nervous.”

The silent _you always say dumb shit_ resonated between the three friends as they shot Lance a look, who ignored them to watch the television.

“Lance? What year is it?” Keith asked, his question slurred.

“You don’t know?” Lance laughed, the camera slightly shaking as he did.

Keith shook his head, eyes glancing around the room until they fell on the nurse.

“Hello,” Keith said politely.

“Hi Keith,” the nurse said with a gentle smile. “My name is Shiro. I’m your nurse, remember?”

Keith opened his hand and beckoned for Shiro to take it, who surprisingly did, although clearly puzzled at Keith’s strange behaviour. And then, swiftly, Keith brought the hand towards himself, and pressed his lips against the knuckles.

“Why did you let me do that?!” Keith squawked in utter despair.

“Holy shit Keith,” Pidge giggled.

“Wow Keith, the real Prince Charming of this story,” commentator Lance said. The bed-ridden Keith ignored him as he shot a handsome grin at Shiro. At least, it seemed like he tried to make it handsome. Keith wanted to gouge his own eyes out at the sight of the lopsided smirk he shot the hot nurse. _Fuck my life. I should just end it now._

“Hello,” he said again, dumbly.

“Hi Keith,” Shiro repeated patiently.

“Nurse, give it to me straight. Is he dying? Those are clearly signs of him dying.”

“He’s just a little hopped up on anesthesia,” Shiro answered truthfully. “As I’m sure you’re well aware of, given the fact that you’re recording every second of this.”

“Don’t guilt me, nurse Shiro. I’m sure your friends have recorded you doing dumb shit too.”

Shiro produced a face that made Keith want to kill Lance first, and then himself.

“That's the face of Shiro remembering his 21st birthday,” Pidge laughed. “It was wild,” she added after wiping a tear from her eye.

“Hold up,” Hunk said as he grabbed the remote and hit pause. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah? He’s like, Matt’s best friend.”

Everyone stared at Pidge like she had grown a second head.

“Depending on how this goes, and how bad I feel for you, I’ll see if I can find the video,” she said to Keith only, who nodded dumbly. There was too much to take in. All he could do was sit in the chair, numb, cold, a little nauseous, and watch. Hunk unpaused the video, and Shiro explained a few technical things about Keith’s condition to Lance, who was taking over the part of his guardian. All the while, Keith never released Shiro’s hand. He held it firmly against his chest, and even brought up his other hand to play with Shiro’s fingers.

“Why didn’t he punch me in the face?” Keith croaked.

Lance looked down at Keith and flashed him a knowing smirk.

“What?” Keith squawked. Lance merely shook his head and returned his attention to the video.

“The doctor will be making routine visits. Given his critical condition, I’ve been assigned to stick close. Is there anything Keith needs tha—”

“You,” the injured Keith interrupted.

Shiro used his free hand to ruffle Keith’s hair, before continuing his conversation with Lance. When the two finished the serious part of their conversation, Lance (whose camera always perfectly captured both Keith and Shiro in the same frame), asked Shiro about himself.

“Do you study here? Or are you just working?”

“I’m doing school part-time,” Shiro said as he pulled a stool towards himself so he could sit while continuing to entertain Keith’s hands with his own. Keith’s heart lurched at Shiro’s kindness. He wasn’t thrown off by Keith’s neediness and disgusting breech of personal space. His heart lurched again at the sight of the other’s prosthetic arm. The fact that Shiro had somehow, somewhere, lost an arm, and was working in the hospital, saving lives and treating patients, it only made Keith fall harder for him.

“What are you studying? Medicine?”

“Nah, I’ve already got that down,” Shiro said with a wink at the camera.

“Did your heart flutter? My heart just fluttered,” Hunk said.

“I’m looking into the aerospace program. I’ve been able to transfer over a lot of my credits, so I’m technically in my last year of classes.”

“A shame,” Lance said. “I’m sure Keith would have loved to have study dates with you.”

“We can still date,” Keith said with a goofy grin. Shiro laughed, and repeated his previous action of reaching over Keith with his free hand to ruffle his hair.

The Keith sitting in the living room covered his face in dismay as he watched himself wrap his uninjured arm around Shiro and pull him into a tight hug.

“Whoa Keith! Down boy,” Lance said, he camera blurring as his roommate tried to pry Keith’s arm off his nurse.

“Go away Lants,” Keith slurred, his eyed glued shut as he held Shiro firmly. “M’not lettin’ go.”

“Okay dude, have it your way. But I don’t think it’s nice that you’re touching nurse Shiro without his permission.”

The Keith high off anesthesia opened his eyes in shock and let go. “Sorry Shiro! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he choked back a sob, and Shiro laughed as he hovered over the now crying Keith.

“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Shiro said as he shushed and cooed Keith.

“Oh my fucking god why am I fucking like this?” Keith exclaimed at his friends, who were all laughing hysterically. Pidge was doubled over, Lance was bent back, and Hunk was fully lying on their carpet, losing his mind.

“Wait! Wait wait wait. Shut up, shut up!” Lance said between his sobbing laughter. “This is the best part!” He grabbed the remote from the ground and turned up the volume after pausing the video. Keith’s face was on fire as he waited for the laughter to die down. Lance unpaused the video, and the blood instantly drained from Keith’s face as he listened to himself utter a mortifying question.

“Will you marry me?”

“Huh?” Shiro asked with a smile, his cheeks visibly flushed. Bed-ridden Keith reached up to caress Shiro’s face, while chair-ridden Keith slapped his forehead repeatedly.

“Bro stop,” Lance demanded between his hiccupped laughter. “You’re going send yourself back to the hospital with a newfound concussion.”

Keith’s hand paused mid-smack as he considered the option.

“Let’s run away together, Shiro. Let’s explore the galaxies. I’ll take you to whichever planets you want, baby.”

Keith continued smacking his forehead until he saw stars.

Lance had to pause the video again as the four friends took a moment to gather themselves. It was all too much. Nobody had seen Keith this loopy in a while. He only reached this level of delusional when he was grossly sleep deprived or absolutely hammered.

“Man, Keith. You’re usually the type to make bets you can’t win or get into fights that do more harm than good,” Hunk said. “I’ve never seen your flirty side before.”

“I didn’t know you even had one,” Pidge tacked on. “I always thought you’d marry the stars in space or something poetic.”

“You mispronounced pathetic,” Lance corrected.

“Fuck off Lance. Can’t you see I’m hurting?” Keith half-joked as he gestured to his heart instead of his arm cast, the idea that he had legitimately asked a handsome man to marry him making him miraculously find a sense of humor. “Fuck,” Keith breathed after a moment. “I can’t believe I did all that shit.”

“Y-you know it’s not done yet, right?”

“How?” Keith squawked weakly. “How has Shiro not run away from me yet?”

“Let’s roll the clip and find out!” Lance screamed while holding out the remote. Pidge circled her finger dramatically over the buttons before slamming the play button with vigor.

“Sorry Keith, I’d love to, but you’re in no condition to fly anywhere.”

“You’d _love to?!”_ Cameraman Lance asked.

Shiro blinked and turned his head to Lance, eyes wide and mouth parted in shock. He looked like he had forgotten he wasn’t alone.

“I-I mean.” Shiro croaked. “I didn’t mean that seriously?”

 _Why was that a question? Why do you sound unsure?_ Keith wondered.

“You didn’t?” The injured Keith asked. Shiro’s eyes now flew to Keith, who was clutching his prosthetic bicep with his own iron-clad grip.

“No, no, no,” Shiro cooed again, petting Keith’s head.

“He totally likes you,” Pidge muttered. Keith’s brain short-circuited at the comment, and somehow dismissed it altogether.

“So, you’ll come with me?” The Keith holding onto Shiro like he was his only source of life support asked.

Shiro glanced at Lance, and then leaned down to whisper something into Keith’s ear.

“What did he say?” Hunk asked.

“Dunno,” Keith said, dazed. He didn’t remember any of this. He couldn’t even read his own damn expression. The Keith on the television seemed to be fighting to keep his eyes open. His face was flushed and his hand desperately held onto Shiro.

“What was your name again?” Keith asked. The sound of four slaps reverberated through the living room. Keith could feel a bruise forming on his forehead, but he couldn’t stop himself from reacting to his own appalling behaviour.

“It’s Shiro you hopped up _buffoon!”_ The Lance recording him said through his own hysterical laughter.

“Lance? Why are you here?”

“Shiro, you drugged him up pretty badly.”

“I…” Shiro was still hovering over Keith, mainly because Keith wouldn’t let go of him. “I had to increase the dosage because he wasn’t going down. It was doctor’s orders.”

“I’d go down for you. I’d do whatever you’d want me to, baby.”

“Holy shit,” the four said in unison; five if you counted cameraman Lance, who had the same reaction.

“That’s uh… very sweet of you Keith,” Shiro said. The nurse was no longer in control of his face. He was scarlet from his neck up to the tips of his ears. “You should try and sleep, buddy.”

Keith frowned. “Buddy? We’re going to space to get married. Call me something cuter.”

“WHO IS THIS?!” Keith finally screamed, standing up from his chair with such ferocity that it fell backwards with a loud thud. “WHO THE FUCK IS THAT IDIOT IN THE BED? WHY DIDN’T YOU GAG MY MOUTH?”

“Keith, relax!”

“I can never show my face at the Garrison ever again,” he croaked as he fell to his knees in defeat. “I have to transfer schools.”

“Okay uhh, b-baby. You should sleep.”

“That poor, _poor_ nurse,” Hunk said between an awkward laugh.

Keith immediately pressed his palm flat against Shiro’s cheek and rubbed the skin with the pad of his thumb.

“Ohmygodmakemestop,” Keith begged in a quick, desperate stream between the fingers muffling his mouth.

“Goodnight Takashi,” Keith said with the sweetest smile in the softest voice.

“Holy shit Keith, you botched his name in a way I didn’t think possible,” Hunk said to the withering figure curled up on the carpet beneath him.

“N-no. That’s actually his name,” Pidge mentioned. The three looked at her in shock. “But how did _you_ know that? He doesn’t introduce himself to clients as anything but Shiro.”

Now all eyes were on Keith.

“Have you two met before?”


	2. First Meeting

“Have you two met before?”

Keith shook his head slowly. “No? Not that I remember…”

“Wait, maybe that’s what he whispered to Keith earlier?”

“Maybe…”

“But Keith asked for his name after Shiro whispered to him.”

“Dude, what is going _on?”_ Hunk asked.

Nobody knew. They watched, puzzled as the video ended with Lance patting Keith on his head, and telling him to rest up with genuine kindness in his tone.

“Uhh, so yeah. There’s that. Keith fell asleep almost immediately after that,” Lance said as he unplugged his laptop. “Keith, you gotta go to Shiro and ask him.”

“NO. No fucking way am I going to do that,” Keith stated as he stood up to glare at his friend. “I’m avoiding that hospital like the plague.”

“Hello? Earth to Keith. Is it not sinking in? Shiro _knows_ you. You two have _met_ before,” Lance emphasized.

“He wasn’t being polite to your flirting, Keith,” Hunk added. “No one’s _that_ nice to a rando feeling them up.”

“He looked like he was resisting the urge to flirt back,” Pidge commented, almost to herself. “I wonder if Matt knows.”

“Okay, okay,” Keith exhaled as he paced the room in front of his friends. “What we’re _not_ going to do, is pursue this any further. You got a good laugh at my expense. Let’s just leave it at that, _please.”_

The three carried both the expressions of pity and yearning. They wanted to solve the little riddle they accidentally stumbled upon, but they also wanted to respect Keith, who looked devastated and defeated, his scar prominent, arm cast hugging his chest sadly, and the hints of bandages from his ribs down to his stomach apparent behind the small gap of space created by the hem of his shirt riding up.

Keith’s friends exchanged a series of glances before coming to a silent conclusion.

“Alright Keith. We’ll stay out of this one.”

Keith’s knees nearly buckled in relief.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go scream into my pillow for the next several hours.”

The three watched Keith stiffly leave their presence, perked at the sound of his bedroom door gently clicking shut, and winced at his muffled screams penetrating the thin walls of the cheap apartment.

*******

“Holy shit _, Keith,”_ Lance hissed. Keith ignored his friend by burying his face further into his textbook. Luckily for him, they were studying the library, and he had snagged an isolated desk a few tables away from Lance.

“Keith! _Keeeeeeeeeittthhh,”_ the other hissed. The sound of several individuals clicking their tongues in irritation or shushing Lance filled the room. Keith’s eye twitched as he glared at the other. Lance was pointing frantically behind him, and Keith followed his gesture to see…

Nobody.

Keith scowled and turned back to his homework. What was Lance freaking out over?

“Keith you _blind_ mother fuc—"

_“SHHHHHH.”_

“Oh, _you_ shush,” Lance snapped at the person glaring at him as he stood up. “Y-you’re not even doing work, dude! You’re on fucking Youtube!”

More shushes, this time from others. Others who were legitimately studying.

“Lance, shut the _fuck up,”_ Keith whispered. He didn’t want to be associated with his roommate. Security would be on their asses in a second if Lance didn’t smarten up and quiet down.

“Keith,” Lance whispered as he approached his friend. He crouched down and rested his chin on the back of his hands as he held the corner of Keith’s desk. “Shiro’s here.”

Keith’s eyes widened, and he turned in time to see…

“You two are making a ruckus,” the library’s security guard said in a monotonous voice. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to lea— Lance?”

“Hey Matt,” Lance said coolly. “Funny seeing you here. With your friend. Whom I don’t know and would love to be introduced to. And by me I mean Keith would love to be introduced to.”

“Pack up your shit Lance,” Matt whispered before eying Keith. Keith gulped nervously. He had never met Pidge’s older brother before. Hunk, Lance and Pidge had gone to the same high school together. They formed an inseparable bond and acted like siblings more so than friends. Keith was surprised that they let him into their tightknit family. He was a year older, but their classes overlapped given that Keith focused on getting his electives out of the way in his first year while the three chose to spread it out more. Being Lance’s roommate helped with the bonding too. Pidge and Hunk ended up crashing at their place more than he could ever have predicted, but their presence was welcomed. Hunk always brought or made food as compensation for loitering, and Pidge always worked through their tougher assignments with Keith, their combined heads solving the tricky equations that not even yahoo answers had solved despite the questions being pasted into the service multiple times throughout the years.

And yet despite becoming close to the three, Keith had never met any of his friend’s siblings or family members.

Until today.

“Sorry for the racket,” Keith whispered as he too packed his bag.

Matt didn’t answer. Instead he glanced behind him, and then back to Keith.

“Hey, I’m only kicking Lance out. But if you two want to study together somewhere else, I know a really good place.”

Keith finally mustered the courage to let his eyes scour the library for Shiro.

 _God._ There he was. In normal clothes. For normal sized humans. Keith had to fight back the urge to bite his bottom lip as he let his eyes trace the tight muscles bulging against Shiro’s black t-shirt. What he’d give to see him in a white one.

That was completely soaked through.

“Keith and I would _love_ that,” Lance answered. Keith was too dumbstruck by Shiro absentmindedly scanning the bookshelves to glare at his friend.

“Follow me,” Matt said, pulling Keith out of his horrendous thoughts. Keith followed Pidge’s brother stiffly, not trusting himself to speak, while Lance trailed closely behind.

“Shiro,” Matt said. Keith found himself ducking behind Matt. If he couldn’t see Shiro, that meant Shiro couldn’t see him, right? “Can you take these two to another study space. Preferably one that won’t form an angry mob?”

“Sure?” Shiro sounded confused. Keith didn’t blame him. If it weren’t for Lance causing a scene, neither he nor Matt would have been on baby sitting duty. “Am I coming back here right after or when your shift ends?”

“Nah, I’ll meet you there. Just text me where you are when you’ve all settled.”

“Sounds good. And uhh…” Shiro’s voice dipped very low as he leaned closer to Matt. “Who are these two and why am I doing this?”

“These are my sister’s friend, Lance and Keith.”

Matt side-stepped as he said Keith’s name, and suddenly Shiro and Keith were staring at each other, equally wide-eyed and caught off guard.

“K-Keith! It’s so good to see you.”

“Hey there,” Keith croaked shamefully. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“Yeah Keith, you keep causing your nurse trouble,” Lance added. A wide range of emotions flashed across Shiro’s face until he settled on a kind, if not forced, smile.

“Hey Lance. I remember you now. Wouldn’t stop shoving a camera in poor Keith’s face or asking about Allura.”

“That’s _nurse_ Allura to you,” Lance corrected. Keith punched his friend in the arm, _hard._ The bruise in his bicep would hopefully act a warning to Lance if he ever tried to disrespect Shiro moving forward. “Hey!”

Matt clicked his tongue and ushered the small group further away from the study area and towards the elevators of the seven-story library.

“Get out of here before I lose my job.”

As if on cue, the elevators door opened, packed with tired students, leaving almost no room for the three to squeeze into. Keith did his best not to touch Shiro, even going as far as to clutch onto Lance’s shoulders desperately, pushing him against the door and making more room for himself so he wouldn’t breach Shiro’s personal space ever again.

And still could he feel the hotness of the other’s breath tickling the back of his neck.

***

“This is your study space? A coffee shop?”

Keith wanted to die all over again. He’d first end Lance before doing that, though. It only seemed right. Lance had been pestering Shiro with questions incessantly, and despite Shiro chatting along just as easily, Keith felt bad. As sociable and considerate as he was, Shiro didn’t deserve being forced upon Lance’s presence.

“Yup. The hustle and bustle here is actually more helpful than silence in the library. If one person makes a sound there, it breaks your concentration. Here, it blends in almost like white noise.”

Keith was too distracted by the fact that Shiro said _hustle and bustle_ seriously to chime into the conversation. In fact, he had gone mute the moment they were together. Although the hospital incident was months ago, and Keith had long since recovered from the accident, the memory of how he acted around Shiro would forever take the forefront of his thoughts.

“Plus, you might as well be near the sourced item keeping you going through these hectic times.”

Keith shot up at that, voice suddenly found as he realized he could make it up to Shiro.

“Let me buy you a coffee!” Keith declared.

“I’m alright Keith,” Shiro said as he flashed him a sweet smile. “Really. Save your money.”

“It’s the least I can do after you —after you took care of me.”

Shiro’s expression suddenly darkened, and Keith felt his throat constrict at the sight. Had he pressed a button? Maybe Shiro had erased the memory of how Keith acted around him and bringing it up upset him deeply.

“S-sorry Shiro. I was probably a difficult client to look after,” Keith pressed, ignoring Lance snorting at the word _difficult._ “A coffee is the least I can do for you. Please?”

Shiro looked struck as he scratched the back of his head. His brows were furrowed but the corners of his lips twitched upwards as he considered a response.

“Aw, c’mon Shiro. Let Keith do this for you or he’ll probably cry again.”

Keith didn’t bother hiding the toe-punt he winded up and brought down against Lance’s ankle bone. The other doubled over the coffee shop’s love seat and rubbed his foot feverously, giving Shiro and Keith a small window of time to exchange satisfied looks.

“Wouldn’t want to make you cry,” Shiro smiled softly. Keith’s face burned, but he smiled back. “A double-double is fine,” Shiro added. “Medium or small. You choose.”

“Extra large it is,” Keith said as he stalked his way towards the front counter, ignoring Shiro’s protests. Even now, long after Keith was released from the care wing and no longer needing outside assistance, Shiro was looking after him. He knew every dollar counted for a university student and didn’t want Keith spending unnecessarily on him. Now, more than anything, Keith wanted to spoil Shiro silly. He ordered Shiro’s coffee in the biggest size they had, and after mulling over the dessert options, chose to purchase a slice of triple layered chocolate cake. He also bought Lance a doughnut to shut him up.

After heading back with his purchases, Keith could tell Shiro was happy. He thanked Keith and took a sip of the hot coffee with genuine relief, his eyes shining as he let the caffeine enter his bloodstream. Keith tried not to sigh dreamily as he sat across the other. Shiro was open and friendly, and above all else, surprisingly chatty. Even when he told Lance and Keith to take out there textbooks to work, he and Lance held an easy conversation. If it were anyone else, Keith would have tuned them out and went back to his work. He’d either put in his ear buds or excuse himself to study at home. But when Shiro spoke, Keith couldn’t help but hang on to every word.

“Okay Shiro. This has been bothering me since I hogtied Keith to a chair and force him to watch a video of himself badly flirt with you.”

Shiro shot Keith a look of horror and pity. Keith’s face was searing, but he didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice cracking, which it often did when he was yelling at Lance. He was completely defenseless.

“Have you met Keith before? You must have, right? He knew your first name.”

“Oh boy,” Shiro said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Lance was leaning forward, expectant, while Keith was doing the opposite —hoping he’d melt into his seat before Shiro could respond.

“We did. At a party. It was a while ago though…”

“We did?” Keith finally said, voice cracking despite the lack of yelling at Lance. _Cool. Great._

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t remember it… you were sorta gone by the end of it.”

Keith covered his face with his hands and groaned into his palms, ashamed. Shiro’s two encounters with Keith were when he was a blubbering idiot.

“God, this is fucking amazing. Please tell me what he did. _Please_ tell me someone recorded it.”

“No one recorded it,” Shiro said sternly, and suspiciously quickly. “Keith I… nobody knew at the time… Holy shit dude, we would have gotten into so much trouble if anyone caught a minor drinking.”

“Wait, Keith? Our Keith? You went to a college party knowing you were breaking the rules?”

“I’m not a saint,” Keith replied. He didn’t like parties. He rarely did any drinking until he became acquainted with his current group of friends. He trusted Pidge, Hunk and yes, even Lance, to take care of him when drunk, and vice versa. He didn’t really have that back then.

“The only party I remember going to before I was legal was one my high school friends dragged me to after graduation.”

“Graduation?” Shiro squawked. “L-like high school graduation? You weren’t even in uni yet?”

 _“Please_ tell me you met Shiro when you were in high school,” Lance implored over the other’s shaken question.

Keith shook his head in wonder, not denial. “If I did, I don’t remember it clearly. That was a few years ago…”

He didn’t really remember life outside of Garrison U. He turned to Shiro, who looked pale.

“Shit… sorry Keith. I totally let you drink.”

Keith and Lance scoffed at the same time. “Dude, how old are you? Minors sneak in the alcy-hols all the time,” Lance commented. “You shouldn’t feel guilty for that. Unless…”

_Unless?_

“Unless Keith did some _dumb shit_ while under the influence!”

Shiro’s complexion almost matched his hair’s pigmentation.

“Oh my God! He did, didn’t he? What did he do Shiro?”

“Nothing, Lance,” Shiro replied sternly.

“Oh come on, you remember him. You remember what he did. You weren’t phased in the hospital by his clingy ass —was that what he did back then too?”

Keith couldn’t read Shiro’s expression behind his hands; his palms digging into his eye sockets hard enough to create stars in his blackened vision.

“Nothing. Happened,” came Shrio’s firm response.

“I’m sorry Keith,” Lance said. Keith lowered his hands enough to peek through his fingers. Lance was standing. He was shouldering his backpack and taking out his phone.

_Oh no._

“I’ll see you guys later.”

He said nothing else as he exited the coffee shop. Keith and Shiro stared at the glass doors until Lance was completely out of sight. Only then did they face each other.

“I pissed him off,” Shiro sighed apologetically.

“No Shiro,” Keith whispered dreadfully. “You fired him up.”

Shiro didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. Keith fell back into the cushion of his seat and exhaled shakily. Lance _was_ going to find more information. He would never do anything bad with it, sure. He was never the type to blackmail or bribe. Spreading rumors or gossiping was not his forte. But he treasured the act of teasing the people he loved, and until the hospital incident, Lance had nothing on Keith.

“Sorry Keith… I should have told you earlier —back at the hospital. When, you know, no one else was around.” He said, heavily implying only Lance when he said _everyone._

“It’s okay. You were busy with other patients. I’m just glad you didn’t request a nurse substitute after what I did.”

“I would never,” Shiro laughed. Keith’s heart jumped at the sound. He couldn’t believe how relaxed Shiro was despite everything. He held himself with confidence and it _showed._ His posture, his build, his easy-going grin; he wasn’t phased at all.

Keith couldn’t help it. He had to ask.

“Which version of me was worse? Drunk Keith or Drugged Keith?”

Shiro crossed his arms hummed in thought. “Avoiding-Shiro Keith,” he concluded.

“Huh?”

“We attend the same space program, Keith. I see you in the engie building all the time, and I know you see me too. I’ve _witnessed_ you 180 out of the stairwell after seeing me climbing up it.”

Keith cringed at himself. He didn’t think his behaviour was that noticeable. He was hoping Shiro wouldn’t even remember him. But as it turned out, they had a past. Shiro knew him well.

“Sorry,” Keith said. “Watching that video was rough. I sorta relived it every time I saw you.”

Shiro frowned and nodded. “Hey listen…” he began. Keith raised an eyebrow as the other rubbed his mouth with his hand as he contemplated his next words carefully. “Can I give you my number? Can you text me if you think Lance finds anything?”

“S-sure,” Keith says almost too enthusiastically. He and Shiro proceeded to exchange numbers, a weird air of anticipation and uncertainty sparking between them. Keith sat back into his chair while fighting against his body’s urge to put his infatuation on full display with a dopey grin.

“Matt’s shift is over,” Shiro said after a moment of silence passed between the two university students casually scrolling through their phones and catching up on any missed messages. “Sorry Keith. I totally distracted you.”

“Stop apologizing Shiro. I love talking to you,” Keith chided before what he said echoed back through his ear and into his pea-sized brain. The gerbil taking a break on the wheel shot him a look.

_What did I just fucking say?!_

Shiro laughed and leaned forward to ruffle Keith’s hair. Keith didn’t miss the other’s rosy cheeks, and wondered if this was a successful flirtation, or a disastrous attempt at conversation.

“You’re right. I need to get better at that. Anyways, go study. I’ll get out of your hair,” he said while literally removing his fingers from Keith’s hair. Keith held back a disappointed whine.

“Shiro, before you go, can I ask you a serious question?” Keith asked while standing with Shiro.

“Sure, buddy. What’s up?”

“At the party. Did I… lose my…” Keith cleared his throat and tried again, face blazing and mind whirling. He never wanted to ask this; especially not to the guy he was hardcore crushing on. Keith stepped forward and said in a small, broken voice; “Did I have sex with anyone at that party?”

Shiro shook his head fast. Rapidly, in fact. “You didn’t. I promise you didn’t.”

“Are you sure? I don’t remember how that night ended. I just… I remember having hickeys… in several different places.”

“God,” Shiro hissed. Why was his face red? What embarrassingly shameful shit did he bear witness to that night? Keith felt immensely guilty for torturing Shiro with the sight of his drunken ass running amok.

“Nothing traumatizing happened. You seemed pretty happy and compliant with the… the guy,” Shiro said, the word _guy_ coming out bitterly.

“I was hoping to stay pleasantly ignorant on what happened that night,” Keith admitted. “If Lance finds anything, I’ll uhh… I’ll let you know. If I don’t die of embarrassment first.”

Shiro shot Keith a painful smile, one that looked closer to a grimace. “Thanks.”

Matt entered the coffee shop before Keith could say anything else. The two greeted Matt, exchanged a few pleasantries, and went their separate ways; Shiro and Matt heading to the movies to meet up with a few of their other friends, and Keith sprinting to his apartment.


	3. Movie Night

Keith and Shiro hit it off abnormally well despite their rocky first two encounters. The two avoided the subject of shitfaced minor Keith and hopelessly romantic post-surgery Keith to instead focused on talking about their school, Shiro’s work, Shiro’s incredible ability to balance school and work, Shiro’s workout routine…

Keith liked talking about Shiro, even to Shiro. 

A few months had passed since (what Keith would consider) their first _proper_ encounter at the library and coffee shop. Keith learned that Shiro had gone into nursing because he had always been good at helping people, and figured it was the best path for him. It wasn’t until he had finished his course load and earned himself a placement at the school’s hospital that Shiro was given a fresh perspective. He didn’t go into detail about the whys or hows, but Shiro disclosed that someone had opened his eyes, and helped he decided that he was going to pursue a path he never thought he’d admit he wanted from a very early age. He was going to become an astronaut. 

It certainly helped that a large chunk of Shiro’s classes were transferable and granted him straight into the second year of the Aerospace Program. Despite enduring (suffering) through the classes himself, Keith mind whirled as Shiro mentioned the classes he didn’t need to repeat; Calculus I, Chemistry, Linear Algebra, Physics, Calculus II, Statistics and Flight Mechanics.

“You needed Flight Mechanics to become a nurse?” Keith had asked at the time, ashamed of his ignorance towards how mathematically demanding their Medical Biology program at the Garrison was.

“Nah, it just sounded neat.”

“Neat,” Keith repeated, dumbfounded. 

Shiro shrugged, and Keith shook his head in wonder. “Shiro, I’m in the Aerospace Engineering program at the ever-prestigious Garrison University. My standard for _nerd_ was pretty up there, but you just shot through it like a rocket.”

“Sick analogy,” Shiro said with an amused snort.

Conversations between the two came naturally. Whether they met up for coffee, studied in the same space, or simply texted each other throughout the day; Keith’s heart felt so much bigger, so much _warmer_ with Shiro. He legitimately loved him, but with that came the fear. Their friendship was something Keith cherished. Shiro’s respect was something he yearned for. He refused to risk compromising what he had.

He would stay stubbornly in love at a respectable distance for the rest of his life if need be.

***

“I’m gonna puke!” Keith hissed to Shiro as Lance pushed him down onto the very same folding chair he had sat on a year ago. 

“Oh, come on Keith, how bad could it be?” Shiro asked.

Keith shot him a look of pity. He loved his friends, and he had grown accustomed to their antics —even ardently joining them when it was at the expense of someone else, but Shiro was still learning. He was still a baby to the folding chair of shame.

Shiro must have been shaken by Keith’s expression, because he sat down on his own chair slowly, the hints of uncertainty apparent on his handsome features. 

“Now everyone, we are gathered here today t—”

“Nope. We’re not doing the gag again,” Pidge stated as she started up the laptop and fixed the cable before Lance could get a word in.

“Why does Shiro need to be here?” Keith inquired, despite knowing the answer. Lance had found it. After months of digging, the bastard found a video; a clip — _something,_ of Keith at the party he and Shiro met at. He only hoped it was ambiguous. A quick scene of them meeting that then cuts off to Keith running around in his underwear or something. He’d take that over bad flirtations. The last thing he needed was Shiro to be reminded that Keith might very well _like_ like him. 

“He’s just as guilty as you are for being a hopeless idiot when drunk,” Lance answered.

Shiro let out a shuttering breath, the likes of which nobody else heard except for Keith. When Keith glanced over, Shiro was staring straight ahead at Matt, his glare accusatory. Matt mouthed an apology, but Keith had a feeling he wasn’t actually sorry. Shiro didn’t buy it either, apparently. His fists were clenched tightly over his thighs, the fabric of his pants crumpling beneath his hands. Keith wanted to reach over and place a hand over Shiro’s. He wanted to calm him down and act as a reassuring presence among the traitorous friends, but something told Keith that touching Shiro was the last thing he should do. Instead, Keith evened his breathing and stared at the television, prepared for the worst.

“Only Matt and I have seen this. We did some editing too. Took out the useless stuff and compiled the good shit™,” Lance explained.

“How did you do that with your mouth?” Hunk whispered.

“Just play it!” Pidge practically squealed. Lance didn’t wait a moment longer. He pressed play, and suddenly the residents hovering in the living room were bombarded with loud music.

“Shiro! Shiro, congratz boy!” Matt screamed. He was the cameraman, it seemed. Keith wasn’t surprised. What surprised him was the young man the camera was pointing at.

“That’s you?” Keith asked. Shiro said nothing as he observed his younger self grin at the camera. Shiro rocked an undercut; his hair faded to the scalp, short cropped black hair covering the crown, and the longer lengths of his fringe falling over his left brow handsomely. 

“Thanks Matty. Are you going to be recording me all night?”

“You bet your birthday boy ass I am!” Matt replied. He screamed cheers, and a can of beer appeared in front of the camera, clinking against the one Shiro was holding. The video suddenly cut to Shiro in a different part of the campus residence, and the sight struck Keith as familiar. This was the kitchen of the house his friends and he had snuck into. Nobody noticed their presence. The partygoers were already well into drinking by the time Keith made his appearance.

“Look! There’s Keith!” Pidge exclaimed, her finger pointing towards the lanky teen hanging back.

Keith cringed at his sullen appearance. He wore all black, for some reason. A black t-shirt and jeans so dark he might as well have worn the same outfit to a Halloween party and called himself the Slender Man. 

“Dude, I didn’t know there was a time when you _almost_ didn’t have a mullet,” Lance commented. The editing in the video actually _zoomed in_ on Keith. “Bring that look back.”

 _“Fucker,”_ Keith hissed at Lance’s amazing editing. The asshole had somehow removed the grainy resolution that came with enlarging images; especially moving ones. He felt a little less murderous after risking a glance at Shiro and catching him smiling at the video of his past self. And then the smile froze on his face. Shiro watched his past self approach Keith. The editing zoomed back out in time to showcase Matt walking closer to Shiro. 

“Look at the birthday boy… making new friends,” Matt said to the camera viewers as if he knew it would lead him to the very scenario they were bearing witness to in Keith and Lance’s tiny living room. Shiro was talking to Keith. His cheeks were rosy with the buzz of however many beers he had consumed between the jump cut of the video. And Keith…

 _I look so damn smitten,_ Keith realized. He was sober in that moment. Keith remembered now. This was where he was introduced to Takashi. How his anesthesia-induced brain made the connection when normal, recovering-under-Shiro’s-care Keith didn’t was beyond him. 

Shiro and Keith sat in silence as they watched themselves converse. 

“I remember feeling so proud of myself for making you smile,” Shiro commented quietly. 

Keith raised an eyebrow. He had yet to smile in the video.

Oh wait. No. There it was.

Keith’s lips curled up and his expression softened considerably. He even smacked Shiro’s arm teasingly when the other said something and barked out a joyous laugh. 

Matt had lost interest after that, and the video cut again. This time it was back to solo Shiro, who had a crowd chanting around him as he shotgunned a beer with ease. Keith tried not to react to how hot it was. The way Shiro penetrated the bottom of the can with his car keys and brought the tin to his lips, the way he pulled back the tab at the top with ease, the satisfying fizz sound overwhelmed by the crowd losing their minds, it was all way too sexy. The Keith rooted to his chair bit his bottom lip hungrily as he burned the sight of Shiro chugging the alcohol into his memories; his Adam’s apple bobbing and neck glistening with where parts of the beer escaped the corners of his lips. It was a sight Keith would have to resurface in those quiet nights when he was feeling a little aroused, very stressed, and in need of immediate relief. 

The camera didn’t move, but the edited video suddenly zoomed in on the crowd in the background, and Keith observed himself mirror his current expression. He released his bottom lip a moment too late, noting that Shiro had stolen a glance beside him before he could make a more neutral expression. A cold sweat formed at Keith’s temple. Did Shiro remember any of this? He had been drinking quite a bit. Maybe Keith’s obvious thirst went over his head in the past.

_But what will he think re-living it now?_

Keith didn’t want to think about it. Instead, he focused on glaring at his past self, who was visibly longing for the sexy university student with the pretty lashes and an absurdly tight t-shirt. Lance didn’t bother editing out the moments to follow. For a moment, Keith thought it was because he was admiring the general hype of the party, but that hope was quickly dashed as Matt brought the camera back to Shiro, who had reacquainted himself with Keith.

“You’re like magnets,” Hunk observed. Keith’s jaw was clenched too tightly to respond. Shiro was teaching Keith how to shotgun a beer. Keith was bad at it, but neither seemed to care about the beer spraying over them both as Keith failed to bring the can to his lips in time. Both were laughing as they tried to mediate the situation. Rather than opening the tab, Keith was cupping the space beneath his chin, catching the stray droplets escaping his lips. Shiro was standing behind Keith, his left hand wrapping around Keith to hold the beer firmly against his mouth, while his other arm reached over his shoulder to open the tab. Keith briefly noted how Shiro did not have a prosthetic limb at the time.

“Don’t stop!” Shiro laughed as Keith closed his eyes and focused on chugging. Keith could see now that his past self was already drunk. His cheeks were rosy and his demeanor was far too relaxed —even in Shiro’s presence, his barriers wouldn’t be lowered to such an extent.

“God Shiro, you are _glued_ to him,” Matt said.

“You’re dead, Matthew,” Shiro croaked. Keith was thrown off by the threatening tone. Shiro’s face was scarlet now. His fingers were twitching. He was either going to make a break for it and leave the small apartment, or literally make a break for it and punch a hole through the television with his robot arm.

Keith’s attention was brought back to the video as he heard Shiro’s laugh reverberate through the room.

Shiro was hugging him tightly from behind. “You did it, baby!” He said with a loving grin and a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

The entire room gasped and cheered at the television as if their favourite eSports team had just made a major play —everyone except for Keith and Shiro, who watched themselves get very touchy, very quickly. Shiro’s arms were wrapped around Keith’s stomach as he kissed and licked the beer off the corner of his mouth. Keith was laughing as he twisted around in his grasp, and for a second, it looked like he was going to push Shiro away with how he pressed his palms flat on the other’s chest. Instead, Keith leaned close, eyes fluttering shut as Shiro took the hint and kissed his lips.

The small group of friends audibly gasped.

Keith was having an out of body experience watching himself kiss the guy he liked, except approximately three years in the past. 

He hated himself for not remembering any of this.

“Holy shit, you guys get pretty serious,” Hunk mentioned at the sight of Keith being dipped by Shiro’s vigorous press against him, almost as if they were in the middle of a dance. A few people in the video, including Matt behind the camera, cheered and whistled at Shiro, which seemed to pull him out of his lustful trance. He opened his eyes and slowly pulled his tongue out of Keith’s mouth to glare at them. His vehemence gaze then moved to the camera Matt was holding. Without a word, Shiro picked up Keith in a bridal carry and whisked him off towards the crowded corridor of the house leading to the stairs.

“Annnnnnnnnndddd, that’s where it ends,” Lance states as the video goes black, the sudden silence of the dead television deafening. “Shiro carries Keith off to his room and Matt gets too shitfaced to do any more recording.

“There is… _so much_ to unpack from this,” Pidge says, almost giddy at all the revelations they just witnessed.

“I need to lie down,” Keith admits. The amount of blood that had rushed up to his face was making him dizzy. It felt as though someone had hung him upside down from the ankle and only let him sit back up after ten minutes of dangling helplessly. Keith slowly stood up from the chair and sunk into the couch behind him, legs weak. He pressed his face into the cushion and held back from screaming into it. There were guests over, after all. 

“I should go,” Shiro mumbles, just loud enough for Keith to hear it. “This doesn’t leave this room,” he adds with so much authority that even Keith feels a fearful shiver run down his spine despite knowing the threat wasn’t meant for him. The room of friends promise as such, and minutes later, the soft click of their front door opening and closing shut in swift successions fills the silence of the room.


	4. The Phone Call

“We found another video!” Lance said with unprecedented glee.  

“God, just let it go Lance. _Please.”_   

A month had passed and Keith and Shiro only talked about that night fleetingly —covering only the basic apologies and promises that it wouldn’t affect their current friendship.   

“Dude. Listen. Matt recognized some old friends and reached out to them after the last fiasco. One _just_ replied back with their own video.”  

“Great. Is it a different angle of me staring at Shiro’s ass?”  

“No actually. In this one you’re checking out his pecs.”  

Keith blinked at Lance. He then whipped his Thermodynamics textbook at him, nailing his roommate in the gut. Lance grunted in pain, and let the book clatter against the wooden floor.

“Trust me Keithypoo, you’ll thank me after watching this one. It’s on my phone,” he added while reaching into his pocket. 

Keith hesitated. “No foldy chair of death?”  

“No foldy chair of death,” Lance promised. Instead of making it a huge display —literally, Lance simply handed Keith his phone. Keith pressed play and immediately cringed at the sight of himself. This was…  

“This is post-whatever you did in Shiro’s bed,” Lance commented, and for some reason, Keith’s arms produced goosebumps at the fact that Lance said _bed_ instead of _bedroom._ “Apparently this guy was just filming the last round of a beer pong tourney when you and Shiro showed up.”  

Keith walked into the kitchen with a goofy smile and heavy lids. His hand was in Shiro’s, who was a bit behind him. His fringe was a mess, but he seemed a bit more in control of himself. Whatever happened between them had sobered him up.   

The camera guy whooped at Shiro and wished him a happy birthday. Shiro grinned and waved as he guided Keith closer to the pong table so they could watch the grand finale.   

Keith’s heart lurched at the sight of his fingers intertwined with Shiro’s. They almost looked like a couple. If his dumbass hadn’t been so shitfaced, he might have gotten himself to that point. Keith remembered waking up that morning back at his friend’s place with nothing to remind him of his time with Shiro except the hickeys on his neck, chest and inner thighs.   

Keith’s stomach fluttered at that particular memory. At the time, he was almost certain he had lost his virginity that night and was too terrified to figure out with who. 

_Did Shiro lie to me?_

No. He promised Keith that he didn’t have sex that night. Now that Keith knew Shiro was _the guy_ who peppered his body with love bites, the probability of his promise being the truth shot up to almost 100%. That being said, the bruises on his inner thighs suggested that _something_ happened, and the something was enough incentive for Keith to reach out to Shiro later and ask, even if the topic was taboo between the two of them.  

“Is this it?” Keith asked as he observed himself and Shiro blur in and out of the shot as the camera guy was more focused on recording the game.  

“Shut up and listen to yourself dude.”  

Keith scowled but did as he was told. He turned up the volume on Lance’s phone and focused on the conversation in the background.  

“A nurse? That’s incredible!” Keith said.   

“Not really. It’s just the only medical stream that makes the most sense for me. I sure as hell don’t want to be a doctor.”  

“Why does it have to be medical?”  

“Because I’ve already taken all the bio courses? Besides, everyone always said I was built for it.”  

“But you sounded… not… happy just then.”  

“Holy shit dude your vocab takes a major hit when you’re gone, eh?” Lance joked.  

Keith didn’t reply because he agreed. But he also agreed with his stupidly hammered self. Shiro didn’t sound like he wanted to be pursuing the career path that he was.  

“I’m happy Keith. I’m excited to start my placement soon.”  

“That didn’t sound convincing at all.”

The camera had panned up for a moment to record the crowd watching the game, and the video captured Shiro stammering at Keith, his expression stunned as Keith called him out on his fib. “What did you want to be before you went into Medical Biology?” Keith asked. The sound of the beer pong audience going wild muffled their voices momentarily, but Shiro seemed to have paused before answering Keith as not to yell his ambitions for the world to hear.   

“Well, when I was four I wanted to be an astronaut,” Shiro joked. “Nothing else comes to mind…”  

“Because you already made up your mind back then! You need to follow your heart and do what you love!”

“It’s a little too late to—”

“As long as you’re alive, it’s never too late,” Keith lectured, his words slightly slurred.

The crowd went wild, and for a moment, Keith thought it was because people were moved and motivated by his past self’s rousing speech. As it turned out, a team had just won the pong tournament and the university students were excited beyond comprehension thanks to the booze they consumed. The video ended shortly after. Keith could no longer hear himself nor Shiro as the individual recording the video screamed over the crowd to congratulate the winner before the clip cut out.  

Lance collected his phone and stuffed it into his pocket with a satisfied grin.  

“I don’t know why you look so happy with yourself. This doesn’t help.”  

“Of course it does! You two can pretend nothing happened all you want, but there’s chemistry there. He’s here because of you.”  

“We were _drunk_ Lance.”  

“He _remembered_ you. He remembered you when he decided to switch majors and he remembered you when he was carrying your battered body into the hospital screaming for a doctor.”  

Keith sat up straighter at the claim.   

“He did?”  

“That was what your doctor told me. They assumed it was a hit and run, and Shiro found you and took you to the Garrison.”  

Keith scowled. That didn’t add up. He was alone in an isolated desert. He tried not to think too much about it, but a morbid part of Keith understood that he should have died out there. How did Shiro know he was in danger?  

“Lance, can I ask why you’re so invested in this?”  

“You’d be invested too if your best friend was living a real-life soap opera. All you need are English subtitles under you and I’ll be fully immersed.”   

“And now the real reason?” Keith beckoned like a parent trying to get their child to admit that they did something wrong.  

Lance sighed. “You obviously like Shiro. Back at the hospital —I just thought it was cute seeing that side of you. You’re usually so mopey…”  

“You know that was just the anaesthesia talking right?”  

“I’m not talking about the you from right after your surgery. I mean the _normal_ you who spent the rest of the week in that ward recovering. You _visibly. brightened. up._ whenever he came in to check on you.”  

Keith tried not to blush at Lance’s emphasized words. He was still pretty out of it the days after his surgery, what with the broken arm and fractured ribs, but Lance was right to say that Keith definitely looked forward to seeing Shiro while stuck in the hospital bed. He wasn’t surprised that it showed.  

 “We’re friends now, Lance. I don’t wanna screw that up,” Keith said quietly.  

“Okay. Fine. I get that. I’m disappointed in you but I get it.” 

Keith observed his friend cross his arms and scowl at the wall of Keith’s bedroom. He looked like he had more to say with the way he worked his jaw, but held his tongue.  

Keith signed loudly. “What? Just say it.” 

“There’s something there, Keith. You’d be dumb not to pursue it.”  

Keith didn’t know what to say to that. Luckily for him, Lance didn’t push it. He let Keith get back to his studying with a quick _good night._  

Keith couldn’t concentrate after Lance had called it a night. He closed his notebook, turned off the lights, and gently closed his bedroom door. He sighed as he locked his door with a small _click_ and trudged to his bed in defeat. Keith tossed and turned for the next hour, mind whirling. He couldn’t believe _he_ was the bout of inspiration Shiro was referring to when talking about switching to the Aerospace program. It meant that he remembered that night well enough, if not wholly.  

Keith itched to talk to Shiro about it. He unlocked his phone, grunted at the blinding screen, and turned down his brightness. After giving his eyes a moment to adjust, he clicked on Shiro’s name and scrolled up, finding comfort in rereading the thread of texts between himself and Shiro.   

_Sheeeewooo_

_Yeees Keet?_

_I need your help_

_Which class do you need my notes for?_

_LOL damn you knew_

_I’m surprise you didn’t ask sooner._

_Didn’t wanna take advantage of you like that_

_You have my note-bearing consent ;)_

_:0 !!_

Keith cringed as he read the thread of texts, not because of the stupid way they talked to each other —that was normal— but because it was so blatantly flirty. Keith’s thoughts immediately snapped back to the image of himself and Shiro with lazy grins and interlocked hands.   

_“Hnggh_ _,_ damnit.”  

_Hey, you awake?_ Keith decided to type. After letting his thumb hover over the send button, he closed his eyes and went for it.  

_It’s only 10:30…_

_Yeah but you’re an old man so I wouldn’t be surprised_

_Okay, ha ha. It’s funny hours with Keith, huh?_

Keith smiled as he thought about his next response when Shiro sent another message.  

_Whatsup?_

Keith didn’t know. He didn’t think this far ahead. He just knew that some of what Lance had said was right, and they needed to talk about it.   

At least about what they did in Shiro’s bedroom where no one was recording.  

_Can I call you?_

Shiro’s chat showed him typing several times. Keith counted the dot dot dots to nothingness eight times before he muttered _fuck it_ to himself and called Shiro.  

“Uhh, hi.”  

“Hey Shiro,” Keith said evenly. He tried not to think about Shiro’s raspy voice as he continued. “Sorry for waking you.”  

“Shaddap!” Shiro laughed. “I’m telling you, I wasn’t asleep.” Keith grinned as he heard the other shuffle in his bed.  

“I can practically hear the drool on your pillow.”  

“One; that’s disgusting. And two; don’t change the subject. What’s wrong Keith,” he said more seriously. “Is everything okay?”  

Shiro’s question wiped the smile off Keith’s face.   

“Yeah I’m okay,” Keith mumbled. His cheek was pressed firmly against his pillow as he stared at his empty wall. Keith was never one for decorating. His room was barren. As a minimalist, he preferred having as little as possible, and in turn cleaning as little as possible.   

“It’s just that… Lance found another video.”  

Shiro sucked in his breath audibly. “What did it show?” he asked stiffly.   

Keith answered as detailed and sincerely as possible. After he was done, there was an air of awkward silence between them.  

“Breathe out, Shiro.”   

It was a small request. Something to break the silence and invite conversation. At the sound of Shiro’s loud exhale, Keith couldn’t help but chuckle into his pillow.  

“Okay,” Shiro said, after a moment. “You said you had a question, right?”  

“Yeah but now I’m thinking I might have more than one. I don’t know where to begin, honestly.” Keith said.  

Shiro waited for Keith to gather his thoughts. After a pause, Keith cleared his throat and tried to calm his pounding heart.  

“Remember when we first met? At the library, I mean. And you took us to the coffee shop?”  

Shiro hummed in acknowledgment.   

“I asked you this there —and I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t trust you; but are you _sure_ we didn’t have sex? Did you remember that night when you saw me in the hospital?”  

“I’m sure. And yes, I did remember that night —that’s why I know we didn’t… have sex. I’m sorry for not telling you at the hospital.”  

Keith nodded despite knowing Shiro couldn’t see. The way the other ended his sentence only invited more questions. 

“I’m sorry Keith. I kept avoiding the topic like a coward,” Shiro said, almost harshly. “I owe you an explanation. I should have told you everything right away instead of letting it snowball like this.”  

“I don’t think there’s really a proper way to tell someone something like this,” Keith mumbled.  

“I’m just going to tell you everything I remember, okay? Stop me if you have questions or if something needs clarification.”  

“You just sounded like every Garrison professor I’ve ever met.”  

“To me, that’s not an insult.”  

“Okay, you sound specifically like Slav.”  

“Wow, fuck you.” Shiro laughed. “I’m hanging up.”  

Keith waited for the inevitable click, but it never came.   

“I’m kidding. I’m not gonna avoid the topic anymore. I promised.”  

“So how’d it start? Why’d you approach me?” Keith asked. He had been avoiding the topic too. He needed to stop making light jokes and delineating the conversation.  

“Thought you were cute,” Shiro admitted. His answer came out in a bashful mumble that launched Keith’s heart into the stratosphere. He wasn’t expecting that. “I figured I would just admire you from afar... but you looked uncomfortable at the party, so I thought I’d talk to you —you know, help you feel more at ease.”  

“You’re always taking care of me,” Keith sighed.   

Shiro barked out a humourless laugh. “No Keith, I’ve only made your life difficult.”  

“No you haven’t,” Keith proclaimed, frustrated that Shiro would even think he brought anything but happiness into his life.  

“You have no idea,” Shiro whispered. “But we’ll get to that. Let me tell you the rest.”  

“’kay,” Keith agreed. He slumped further into his pillow and tried to relax. “I’m listening.”  

“I was buzzed at the time, so I came on a little strong.”  

Keith hated himself for not remembering even the moments he was sober.  

“We chatted. I thought how nice it would be if I could get you to smile; which was my first mistake.” The sound of Shiro’s comforter rustling beneath him as he adjusted himself in the bed was apparent. “That smile — _your smile—_ turned off any rational thinking I had left that night.”  

Keith was blushing. He wasn’t expecting Shiro to be so blunt about his feelings. He didn’t have time to _process_ those feelings as the other continued speaking.  

“I was hooked Keith. I wanted to keep seeing that smile,” Shiro explained.  

“Okay I think that’s enough for today.”  

“I didn’t even explain anything!” Shiro laughed tightly. He was as flustered as Keith. 

“Shiro, I might die.” Keith hissed. He could feel his pulse in his throat.   

“Anyways—”  

“Don’t ignore me!”  

“—I thought you were just tense because my friends can be a bit loud and obnoxious. Nothing a lil’ booze wouldn’t help fix. But I wanted to make it fun for you too. It’s why there were so many drinking games that night.”   

“I don’t remember any of them,” Keith admitted.  

“You were a light weight but I couldn’t tell at all!” Shiro groaned and Keith flinched at the sound of him smacking his forehead. “You’re so... you seemed so collected. I thought I needed to get more booze in you. I had no idea you were already gone. _Fuck_ Keith, I'm so sorry.”  

“You’re fine,” Keith promised.  

“After giving you a beer, we had shots. Tequila.”  

Keith winced. He hated the taste and wondered if this party was where that detestation had stemmed from.  

“So, you were mixing drinks right off the bat. After that, which I’m sure you were at a point beyond remembering, since I had you take more than one shot, we played flip cup. You were a monster. We destroyed all three rounds.”  

“Three rounds,” Keith repeated. That was three more entire cups of whatever concoction the party goers had created for the game.

“We might have kissed after the last game,” Shiro croaked.   

“Might have? I thought you remembered everything.”  

“Okay fine. We hugged. You kissed my cheek. I literally lost the tiny sliver of restraint I was holding onto.”  

Keith’s heart was racing.  

“The video showing us kissing... that happened right after flip cup. You can tell I was pretty much...”  

Shiro veered off. He coughed awkwardly, unsure of how to phrase his sentence.  

“Thirsty?” Keith offered.  

Shiro exhaled shakily. “Yeah. I was going to say infatuated, but yeah… thirsty is more accurate. No amount of shotgunning beers was going to help.”  

Keith hid his shit-eating grin into his pillow and pressed his phone harder against his ear as Shiro continued. “That video... It was way worse than what I remembered. Sorry for literally licking you like an excited puppy.”  

“It’s okay, I love dogs.”  

Shiro laughed. The low rumble of his voice practically vibrated through Keith’s phone, making Keith hold his breath. Luckily for him, Shiro wasn’t expecting him to say more as he continued.  

“That was technically our first kiss,” Shiro mumbled. “—on the lips.”  

“So why did you carry me away? We seemed fine with PDA…”  

“Yeah, that was my issue.”  

Shiro sighed and scratched his chin, the _scritch_ sound of his scruff echoing through the phone’s speakers. “Okay. So I learned that night that I can be a little… possessive.”  

Keith swallowed.  

“I wanted to devour you in privacy, so I took you to my bedroom. You were so _compliant_ Keith,” Shiro croaked. “I locked the door behind me and you didn’t bat an eye. You were touching me wherever you could. You were whining in my ear whenever I touched you back.”  

“What do you mean touch?” Keith’s voice was hoarse. His question came out in a pathetic whisper. There was a constriction in his throat and a tightness is his lower stomach that he wasn’t expecting.   

“Nothing indecent. Not yet, anyways.” Shiro emphasized. “Just thighs… arms…” he paused and cleared his throat. “You definitely had a thing for my… stomach and chest.”  

“You mean your sculpted abs and tight pecs?”  

Shiro let out a small noise at the back of his throat, the likes of which immediately made Keith take pause. Keith focused past the sound of his pulse pumping in his ears and listened carefully to Shiro as he continued to speak after letting out a small chuckle. The other was taking deep breathes, but erratically. And he seemed uncomfortable in bed. The sound of him repositioning himself constantly was something Keith had tuned out initially, thinking he was just uncomfortable explaining their awkward set of circumstances, but something told Keith that his assumption was wrong.  

“I laid you down on my bed and we kissed. I was lying on top of you, a little eager…”  

The tightness between Keith’s legs pulsed at the description. The thought of Shiro’s weight over his while his tongue danced within his mouth sent all the blood in his body to his lower stomach. 

“We kissed for a bit. I moved down to your neck, and then your collarbone. I uhh… pulled off your shirt and kept descending.” 

Keith swallowed back the moan building in his throat as he reached for his stomach. He evened his breathing and dragged his palm down until it covered his crotch. 

_Am I really going to do this right now?_

“I kissed and licked about every inch of your skin that I could,” Shiro continued. Keith inhaled sharply. 

_Yes, I absolutely fucking am._

Keith started palming his growing erection gently. Despite barely touching his tented pants, Keith realized in sheer terror that the friction from the fabric of his sweatpants might be enough to make him climax. 

“I kept moving down til I was at your pants. I got rid of those too,” Shiro admitted. His voice was hoarse. Keith could hear the fabric of _something_ —either the sleeve of his shirt, or the blanket beneath him— rustling in an even rhythm, and Keith _knew_ Shiro was touching himself too. It almost felt like incentive for him to continue his own ministrations.  

“You had cute undies on, by the way. Wasn’t expecting little bunny boxers from the way you dressed.” 

Keith would have joked that Shiro was killing his boner had it not been for his commentary only making it grow. Instead he let out a measly _shut up_ and continued palming his erection. 

“I wasn’t thinking Keith,” Shiro said more quietly —almost husky. “I was kissing you through your boxers until you were begging for more.” Shiro let out the smallest of moans. “You kept saying _please_ like you’d die if I dragged things on a second longer. I…” 

Keith’s fingers found their way beneath the waistband of his underwear. He needed to touch flesh. 

“I sorta wish I could hear it again,” Shiro whispered. 

“Please,” Keith replied. His breath was hitched as he wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock. _“Please, Shiro. Please.”_  

_“Oh fuck,_ Keith.” Shiro moaned. There was no disguising it. He let the desperation escape his lips —vigorous and frantic. “You said exactly that. I had you naked in a second.” 

Keith was panting. He wasn’t hiding it anymore. Shiro made it clear that they were past pretending that they weren’t having phone sex. 

“My lips were around your dick a second after,” he admitted. Keith sighed at the sound of Shiro’s deep and controlled breaths becoming shorter and shorter as he tried to speak and jack off simultaneously. Keith hummed, encouraging him to continue. “I made you wrap your legs around my shoulders. I went down on you while your thighs squeezed my face.” 

Shiro let out a low chuckle, the kind that made Keith want to scream. What he’d give to be in the same bed as Shiro right now.  

“If you noticed bruises there… that’s why. Had to give you a little nip from time to time to stop you from choking me out.” 

Keith shuddered, aroused. “Sorry,” he breathed. He wasn’t sorry. He stroked his member rhythmically at the imagery of Shiro bobbing his head over his dick; occasionally needing to pull away to lovingly bite his thighs.  

“I sucked you dry,” Shiro sighed into the phone. “Wish I could describe how good it felt having you come in my mouth.” 

Keith lost control of his vocal chords. His moans had increased in pitch as he desperately pumped himself —to the point that it sounded like he was mewling.  

“You were shaking after your orgasm.” 

_Orgasm._ Keith couldn’t believe it. Shiro, _his_ Shiro; the one he had thought he had fallen for only a year ago in the infirmary —the one he was _certain_ wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, had given him a blowjob three years in the past almost like a goddamn birthday present to himself.  

“I wasn’t expecting so much shivering…” Shiro mumbled. “When I moved back up to kiss you, you looked so shaken.” 

“I did?” _Why on Earth would I be shaken?_

“The look that you gave me instantly sobered me up.” 

Keith paused his movement to listen to Shiro.  

“I really thought I messed up. I realized that I was moving way too fast.” 

“I’m sure I was fine...” 

“No Keith. You told me that yourself.” Shiro sighed heavily, and Keith wondered if Shiro had climaxed any time before coming to this sadder part of his story or if he was limply holding his dick the way Keith was currently. “I kissed you until you told me what was wrong.” 

“Oh.” Keith could barely get the sound out.  

“Sorry Keith. I wasn’t myself.” 

“Neither of us were,” he admitted, wondering —almost inappropriately— if the moment had passed and he should release the grasp he held over his erection. “Sorry I killed the mood,” he added after a moment of silence shared between them. “Knowing me, I was probably rattled because I was inexperienced and freaked out that the hot guy sucking me off might have expected more from me.” 

“Having you lie there and wither underneath me was all I needed.” 

Keith automatically started rubbing his member again.  

“I realized that you were drunk and called it quits after that.” 

“Sorry for the blueballs,” Keith joked.  

Shiro chuckled, and Keith’s balls tensed apprehensively at the sound. “S’okay,” he said. “Wasn’t going to take advantage of you like that. Actually... about that...” 

Keith hummed for Shiro to continue as he lazily stroked his member. The rising feeling of his climax had plateaued, and he was rubbing a constant stream of pleasure down his member that crawled up his spine and made the hairs on his body stand on end. Keith couldn’t remember the last time he felt so genuinely aroused. He wanted to milk every second of it. 

“I promised you that we would talk about it again; when we were _sober.”_

“And that never happened,” Keith sighed. 

“I had no idea how to approach you after that. I didn’t even know you were going to the Garrison until I saw you in the Engineering Building one day. You didn’t recognize me when we walked by each other. You looked right past me.” 

“Woops.” 

“I figured you forgot about it.” 

“I hate myself,” Keith mumbled.  

“When we reunited in the hospital, the way you acted so familiarly around me made me think that you might have remembered me. After you said my name… I figured that it was my chance to bring it up... except—” 

“Except I wasn’t sober,” Keith realized. “Wow Shiro, your luck is shit.” 

“You have _no_ idea Keith. When you asked me to explore the galaxies with you, I answered seriously.” 

Keith closed his eyes as he recalled himself in the video Lance recorded. Keith stupidly proposed to Shiro. He asked him to run away with him. He promised to take Shiro to whichever planets he wanted, and deep down, Keith was prepared to stick to his word. When Shiro leaned down to whisper to Keith, Keith expected the other to calmly turn him down, or ask him to cease his inappropriate advances. 

“What did you whisper to me?”

“I said I’d follow you to the ends of the universe.” 

Keith inhaled sharply. 

“Shiro, can you come here and fuck me?” Keith whispered desperately. 

It was Shiro’s turn to let out a sharp intake of breath. “I want to Keith. I want to fuck you so bad, baby.” 

Keith moaned as he guided his thumb along his slit, the digit sliding over the precum leaking out of him. Keith knew demanding a booty call from Shiro on a Sunday night was rather inconsiderate, but he needed to get off right away.  

“But I can’t. Matt has the car for the weekend and my other vehicle is totalled.” 

“Just tell me what you’d do to me,” Keith demanded. He didn’t care anymore. He’d use his imagination and Shiro’s wonderfully honeyed tone to send himself over the edge. 

“I’d do exactly what I did to you at the party. I’d take you to my bed, kiss and undress you at once, and then suck you off.” 

Shiro’s rushed breathing was back. Keith could tell that he too had returned to touching himself. Now that they got the administrative tasks out of the way; their past revealed and their feelings put out on display, they could get to relieving what would be three years of unintentional and poorly misguided pining.  

“But I’d take it farther,” Shiro said with a shuddering breath. “Have you ever fingered yourself before?” 

“No,” Keith admitted. He was too scared he’d do something wrong, and too embarrassed to try it when wasn’t sure he would even like it. 

“Good. Don’t. I want to be the one to make you feel good there.” 

“Okay,” Keith croaked.  

“After making you come in my mouth, I would open your legs and drag my tongue over your hole until I had you begging for more.” 

Keith did as he was implied to do. He started weakly pleading Shiro’s name with zero shame. 

“Yeah baby, just like that. I’d start licking you open until I was satisfied. Then I’d start loosening you up with my fingers.” 

Keith wanted to mimic what Shiro was saying to him, but a promise was a promise. He ignored his rim, no matter how it throbbed with anticipation, and worked his member slowly. He’d drag out reaching climax for as long as he could. 

“I would only consider using my dick when you were nice and loose —or teary eyed from arousal.” 

“I’m definitely the latter right now,” Keith admitted.  

Shiro let out a low growl at the confession. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself after that. I’d fuck you til you were screaming and close.” 

“I’m close,” Keith mimicked. He was. He had increased his cadence the moment Shiro introduced the imagery of his cock penetrating Keith and thrusting into him desperately.  

“Come for me Keith,” Shiro whispered. “I wanna hear it.” 

Keith barely stopped himself from screaming in pleasure, reminding himself that the walls were thin and he didn’t live alone, and instead, let out a strangled moan that hiccupped as his body convulsed in tandem with his orgasm. Keith rubbed his pulsing cock through the tension and release of his balls, and whimpered as he felt his spunk splatter first on his chin, then down onto his chest and lower stomach until he could barely squeeze out his seed from the head of his cock. Somewhere between his heavy pants and muffled moans, Keith heard Shiro’s shocked groan echo in his ears, and soon the two were filling the static of their phone with heavy breathes. 

The two let out a mutually embarrassed chuckle, and a weirdly comfortable silence fell between them. 

“Keith?” 

“Hmm?” Keith’s eyes were closed and he kept his right palm open, too spent to worry about cleaning up right away. 

“We keep skipping a few crucial steps in our relationship.” 

Keith opened his eyes and blinked at his empty wall.  

“I pounced on you at the party, and then you proposed to me in the hospital.” 

Keith groaned in shame. “When you phrase it that way...” he croaked. 

“And now... I was supposed to have a serious conversation with you and we both...” 

“Jacked off to each other over the phone.” 

“Yup.” 

Keith couldn’t help but laugh. Shiro was right. They were disastrous at this. 

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” 

“Shiro, even if I did, they’d be cancelled for whatever you’re about to propose we do.” 

“I was thinking dinner,” Shiro chuckled. “We always hang out at or around school, so let’s go to the other town.” 

“Sure. I guess I’m driving since you’re homebound?” 

“Oh yeah... Yes please.” 

"You’re cute,” Keith blurted. Now that the blood in his body was no longer pooling to his penis, Keith felt the rising warmth burn his cheeks. “I like you a lot Shiro.” 

“I like you too Keith. I’ve liked you for a while,” the other sighed. Keith closed his eyes, feeling Shiro’s relief radiate through the phone. “Can I start calling you my boyfriend?” 

“My heart might burst if you try it, but go ahead.” 

“I’ll say it with care.”  

Keith smiled. His heart rate seemed stuck at a rate of an Olympic sprinter. He ignored the way it squeezed at the thought of Shiro, because that was every time, and instead discussed the details of their first official date as boyfriends.  

“Seven works for me too,” Shiro commented. “I’ll give the place I had in mind a call and see if we need reservations or if we can just walk in.” 

“What time should I pick you up?” 

“Whenever you want.” 

Keith paused. Was that an open invitation for him to show up earlier? 

“I’ll text you,” Keith promised. He didn’t want to end his call with Shiro, but it was late, he had an 8:00 AM class the next morning, and his eyes drooped heavily despite his internal protests. His words were beginning to come out less enunciated post-orgasm; his adrenaline rush was now crashing, as was his body. 

“Okay Keith, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow babe,” Shiro said with what Keith could hear was a gentle grin. 

“Love you Shiro. Goodnight. Ima go wipe the cum off my chin and sleep.” 

Keith hung up right as his boyfriend made a strangled noise. 

*******  

Shiro stared at his phone with blown pupils and fluttering lashes. Did Keith really just say that? Did he seriously shoot a rope to his chin? The imagery was enough to make him hard again. 

“Damnit,” Shiro muttered as he hastily grasped his stiff member and stroked its length in a quick, even rhythm. He and Keith seemed to come to the mutual agreement that their relationship did not follow a conventional path. Even though Shiro was trying to steer them back on track, he had a feeling that they were beyond help when it came to doing things the normal way. 

Shiro came a second time that night to the thought of Keith convincing him to skip their first official date to fuck him silly in his bedroom —the place that had started this all— instead. He stared at his messy hand in shame, and his eyes widened a moment after as he realized Keith’s words.

_Did he say he loved me?!_


	5. Mastering the Galaxies

Keith’s motorcycle was restored to its original standing during the time he spent in the hospital. Pidge and Hunk had taken it upon themselves to fix it for him, much to his bewilderment. He was certain it was beyond repair after his crash. He was also under the presumption that it would be far too expensive for two other university students to replace or reconstruct, but they insisted that the cost wasn’t of concern, and forced him to accept his extravagant _get well soon_ gift without complaint. Keith smiled to himself as he revved his motorcycle and sped down the relatively empty street. It was only three in the afternoon, and Keith had finished his only class that morning with plenty of time to complete the night’s homework. Although dinner was technically at seven, and Keith only needed to pick Shiro up at six the latest, the other had invited him to come over earlier if he had nothing else to do. 

Keith manoeuvred around the light traffic with ease. He grinned to himself as he cheated his way between the cars stuck at the red light and turned toward Shiro’s residential home despite the angry drivers honking at him for cutting through, disobeying basic traffic regulations and lacking common decency. Keith didn’t care. He had places to be. The thought of seeing Shiro, the Shiro who reciprocated his feelings, ruled out any precautions Keith had while driving. 

_Shiro will be mad if he finds out,_ Keith warned himself. He clicked his tongue at the logical part of his brain for making him re-evaluate going 80 in a 50 zone, and slowed his bike to match the road’s speed limit. He didn’t like things making sense if it prevented him from seeing Shiro as soon as possible. 

Again, the Shiro who reciprocated his feelings. 

Keith couldn’t hold back his dopey grin. Shiro liked him. All those times spent together; at school, at the library, at small restaurants or fast food joints, each moment was one wherein Shiro loved him but didn’t know how to tell Keith. When Keith fell asleep at their table in the library, did Shiro fight the urge to tuck back the long strands of his hair behind his ear? Every time they sat across from each other when eating out, was he restraining himself from locking their ankles? Every time Shiro walked Keith to his apartment, was he holding back from kissing him?  

Keith picked up his pace (only a little) when the residence came into sight. He couldn’t help it. He needed to see Shiro right away. Their phone conversation the night before was all over the place. Shiro was right in saying that they skipped a few steps in their relationship. Keith wanted to go on dates with Shiro. He wanted to walk through the campus holding his hand and stealing a chaste kiss before they split ways for class. Flustered at the thought, Keith pulled up into the empty driveway void of any vehicles within minutes of entering the quiet neighbourhood. Despite Shiro sharing the home with Matt and two others, the four friends had lived together for quite some time as university students without ever causing trouble to their neighbours. According to Shiro, they rarely partied at their own place, and even when they did, Shiro would inform his neighbours well in advance and coordinate with their schedules. It was damn cute, and Keith could only fall further in love with Shiro. The other’s seriousness and ridiculously mature sense of responsibility was endearing to say the least. Shiro was a genuinely kind person, and Keith could barely wrap his head around the fact that the other liked him back. 

Heart beating fast, Keith parked his motorcycle and took off his helmet. He combed his fingers through his hair and took out his cell phone. He texted Shiro his arrival, but rather than waiting for a response, he proceeded to knock on the front door. The sound of footsteps became louder, and the soft click of the door unlocking made Keith stand up straighter. He held his breath as he waited for Shiro to open the door, and prepared himself to flash the other a charming smile and witty greeting when the words died in his throat at the sight of Matt. 

“Oh,” Keith grumbled. “It’s just you.” 

“Well! _Hello_ to you too, Keith!” Matt huffed as he stepped aside for Keith to enter. “Shiro!” He screamed at the general direction of the stairs leading to the second floor of the house. “Your boyfriend’s here!” 

“Wait! He told you?” Keith faltered. He wasn’t expecting Shiro to spread the news so quickly. It almost didn’t feel real since they only discussed it over the phone the night before. 

“Told me what?” 

Keith blinked at the question. 

“Hold on,” Matt whispered lowly, eyes widening as he pieced things together. “Oh my god, you really _are_ boyfriends now?!” 

“Uhh... I think?” 

“What do you mean _you think?!_ Shiro you fucking nut!” Matt screamed over his shoulder again. Keith hastily kicked off his shoes while Matt was distracted. “Did you ask him out properly or not?!” 

“Matt, why are you yelling?” Shiro scolded as he appeared at the top of the stairs. “Oh, K-Keith, you made it.” 

“Hi,” Keith greeted, unable to contain his smile. Shiro was wearing gray-white sweatpants and a crinkled white tank top. His platinum hair was messy at the fringe, and his overall demeanor looked far less put-together than how he usually held himself. He looked as though he had just woken up.  

Keith’s heart lurched at the sight. 

“Sorry Keith...” he said as he trotted down the stairs. “Make yourself at home.” 

Keith nodded as he stepped further into the entrance, heart racing. He didn’t know how to greet Shiro after everything that happened the night before. In the year that they had spent becoming close friends, it wasn’t uncommon for the two to say their hellos and goodbyes by performing a one-armed hug. Keith was always charmed by the way Shiro’s prosthetic hand gently clasped his. He had a great sense of his strength, and never hurt Keith as he squeezed his fingers firmly. 

“Sorry about this,” Shiro whispered as he closed in on Keith. “I didn’t expect Matt to return home so soon. He left the car with Pidge too...” 

_Fuck it,_ Keith thought as he went for the hug.  

“No worries,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around the other’s broad shoulders. “It’s my fault for coming so early.” Shiro inhaled sharply, posture stiff and rigid. Keith rested his chin on the other’s shoulder and hummed in feigned concern. “Was the hug a bad idea?” 

_“NO!”_ Shiro flushed as he wrapped his large arms around Keith and squeezed him tightly. 

“Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo,” Matt drawled as he circled the hugging couple to face Shiro. “Boyfriend? This guy is your boyfriend now?” 

Keith couldn’t see Shiro, but his instincts told him he was glaring profusely at his friend for ruining their moment. 

“Yes Matt. Go away.” 

“So rude! Keith, don’t date this jerk. He has no manners.” 

Shiro and Keith pulled away from their embrace to look at Matt. “If you think Shiro’s bad, you’re gonna hate having me around,” Keith replied evenly.  

The blood drained from Matt’s face as he realized the implications of Keith’s words. Keith flashed Shiro’s roommate a menacing smirk, the likes of which said: _Hope you have ear plugs, fucker._  

“Guys please,” Shiro said with his palms out, silently asking for a truce. “Keith, sorry I didn’t answer you, by the way. And sorry I look like shit... I was napping and lost track of time.” 

“S’okay,” Keith shrugged while stuffing his hands into his pockets.  

“Mind giving me a few minutes to freshen up?” 

“Course,” Keith said with a soft smile. He liked the rugged look, but he would give Shiro time to compose himself —just this once. 

“Hey Keith, want a tour?” Matt asked. “Maybe relive some memories.” 

“Nope. Not doing that,” Shiro said as he grabbed Keith’s wrist and dragged him upstairs, much to Keith’s amusement. The back of Shiro’s neck was beet red. He was quite a blusher when embarrassed, and the sight made Keith wonder how he’d look in bed; pinned beneath him and overwhelmed. 

_No sex thoughts!_ Keith chastised himself. They were here to go on a sweet, innocent first date as newly proclaimed boyfriends. Keith gritted his teeth. The blow job didn’t happen. The year spent pining while developing an inseparable bond didn’t mean anything. The phone sex didn’t count. They were in every sense of the word a new couple, and they were going to act like one god damnit! 

Keith didn’t know what to expect when he entered Shiro’s room. He thought maybe seeing the bed would trigger his memories and he would vividly relive the night Shiro sucked him dry and marked his skin. Instead, Keith was hit with an overwhelming urge to snort; so he did. 

“What? What’s so funny?” Shiro asked while quickly making his bed. 

“I don’t know why I thought it’d be sexier,” Keith admitted as he stepped into Shiro’s room, realizing that this little space was going to become very familiar to him. 

“Shut up!” Shiro laughed as he placed his pillow at the head of the bed before moving on to pick up a few articles of clothing that were on the floor. “You have weird fantasies about this place.” 

“Can you blame me?” Keith joked. 

Shiro sputtered something unintelligible as he threw a black NASA t-shirt at Keith. Keith caught it with ease and whipped it back at Shiro, who let it land on his face and slip down onto his shoulder without flinching. “Just sit down and be good,” Shiro instructed as he continued cleaning his room, shame apparent with the red tinting the tips of his ears.  

_You’re_ _sooo_ _cute,_ Keith screamed internally. He sat on Shiro’s bed obediently and crossed his legs after a pause, deciding to get comfortable. They had a lot of time to kill. 

“I should have expected all the space stuff,” Keith commented after giving Shiro a moment to calm down. Face no longer searing and bedroom looking a little tidier, Shiro turned to Keith and flashed him a handsome grin.  

“What can I say? I love our galaxy.” 

Shiro’s room wasn’t barren like Keith’s. Although he didn’t over-decorate his walls and shelves the way Lance did, Shiro’s bedroom possessed a personality Keith could appreciate. His bookshelf held thick textbooks at the bottom two rows, undoubtedly from school, and what looked like novels on the two shelves up top. The middle two shelves contained figures Keith didn’t expect a twenty-five-year-old to put out on display without risk of ridicule from his roommates. 

_Then again... they’re probably just as nerdy as Shiro,_ Keith reminded himself at the thought of Matt. He peered at the shelves with interest and found himself getting up to stare despite sitting mere seconds ago. Sitting on top of the slightly dusty mahogany wood was two gundam models, a molecular structure of something Keith didn’t recognize as anything he learned in his first year biology class, a few framed photos, a blue plastic pipettor that seemed to have melted at the tip, and a rocket ship. 

“That’s the NASA Space Shuttle Columbia OV‑102 Rocket Booster Airplane Model,” Shiro explained after catching Keith’s gaze.  

“I would need my inhaler if I tried saying that in one breath.” 

“Wait —you have asthma?” 

“Nah, not really.” 

“You can’t _not really_ have asthma, Keith.” Shiro said it with a smile, but his eyes showed his concern. 

“I mean... it was tough breathing as a kid, but I haven’t had an attack in years.” 

“Still. Do you carry an inhaler around with you?” 

“Not... at the moment.” 

Keith pretended that he didn’t notice Shiro’s disapproving frown as he moved away from the bookshelf to look at the rest of his bedroom. Three medium-sized posters hung on one side of Shiro's wall, framed in smooth, black-painted wood rather than exposed to the elements like so many (Lance) tended to do, saving the poster from bending at the corners and dulling over time. One framed poster was of a few common constellations. Keith didn’t bother reading over the names, having the popular few memorized when he was only a child. Star-gazing was something Keith and his father obsessively did together. It was what guided him to the Garrison growing up.

Blinking back the misty eyes at the memory of his father, Keith continued on, gazing at the next framed poster which was that of the solar system —labelled. Each planet had a textbox beside it containing facts exclusive to each respective planet. The amount of moons, the harsh conditions, the main molecular structure presumed to occupy the surface and atmosphere; it was all there. And somehow Keith knew that Shiro read the poster thoroughly until he had the facts committed to memory. 

Smiling to himself, Keith glanced over at the final framed poster. This one, he didn’t recognize. At first, he thought he was looking at a map made out of words. There were lines and arrows directing one long name to another, but upon further inspection, he realized that there was no clear route. Blinking, Keith moved closer to read one of the hundreds of tiny words scattered across the poster. 

“Fructose- 1,6 bisphosphate?” 

Shiro leaned in close. Closer than Keith expected. He hummed and asked Keith to point at where he was looking, so Keith did, stiffening when Shiro rested his chin on his shoulder. 

“You’re looking at Glycolysis.” 

“I’m what?” Keith croaked, mind whirling. He thought he would be prepared for physical contact with Shiro past their usual hugs. 

He wasn’t. 

Blood rushed to Keith’s face as Shiro wrapped his arms around his stomach. 

“This is the metabolic pathway of a cell; the poster I mean... I had this all memorized at one point.” 

“Wow,” Keith breathed as his eyes scanned the shapes and figures and words all squeezed into one piece of paper. “I... only recognize the Kreb’s Cycle.” 

And he only remembered it was called the Kreb’s Cycle because the poster labelled it as such in large, bolded letters. And he only pretended to take a sudden interest in cell metabolism because it was the only way to distract himself from the burning heat pooling into his lower stomach at Shiro’s touch.  

“Being made to commit more than the basics to memory is torture, and you’re lucky the TCA cycle is all you had to know,” Shiro grumbled, his jaw working into Keith’s shoulder as he spoke. Keith’s stomach squirmed in anticipation. 

“This seems more fun than quantum physics.” 

“We don’t talk about QP in this house,” Shiro hissed darkly. Keith’s stiffness broke in an instant. He laughed at Shiro; at the sound of pain in the other’s voice, understanding first hand where it came from. Keith turned to grin at Shiro —to smile at his _boyfriend._  

It was surreal. Even more so when Shiro leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against Keith’s. 

“Sorry,” Shiro murmured against his mouth. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” 

Keith kissed him back, the small peck making a sweet sound in the silence of their room. 

“I was supposed to shower first,” Shiro breathed before returning the chaste kiss with one of his own. “I was gonna come out refreshed and maybe kiss your cheek and ask you if you wanted to go on a walk with me to kill time before dinner,” he murmured softly, forehead pressed against Keith’s and eyes closed. Keith slid his hands into Shiro’s. “I can’t think straight around you,” Shiro muttered. 

Keith snorted. 

Shiro backed away enough to look at his expression, and Keith flushed while bowing his head low. 

“Sorry,” Keith croaked. “Stupid gay jokes always get me.” 

Shiro smirked and kissed Keith’s brow. He descended to peck the bridge of his nose, and moved lower to kiss the tip of his nose shortly after. Shiro nuzzled his cheek against Keith’s before bringing his lips to the burning skin he just scratched with his stubble. Keith melted into Shiro’s affection. He grasped the other’s hands tightly and closed his eyes as Shiro kissed his face. Soft lips brushed his cheek, his jaw, his chin. Shiro peppered Keith’s lips until Keith whispered his name; hoarse and aroused. 

“No Keith,” Shiro whispered despite taking a step forward. Keith automatically move back until he was pressed against the wall behind him. “We can’t...” Shiro continued in a raspy voice. He cut himself off by busying his mouth with Keith’s neck. Keith moaned as the wet heat lapped his burning skin. Blood immediately rushed to his crotch. He arched his back and pressed his hip against Shiro, who moaned in response.  

“This is not... how I wanted our first date to go...” Shiro admitted between heated kisses against Keith’s flushed skin. 

“Shiro,” Keith breathed. His voice hitched in his throat as Shiro lapped his Adam’s apple, the act making him tilt his head back to allow him further purchase. Shiro hummed as he rounded his neck to lavish the untouched skin with kisses. 

“Shiro,” Keith tried again. The beginnings of an erection was forming. The growing tightness of his pants was becoming apparent. “Take me to your bed.” 

Shiro groaned. He didn’t need to be told twice. He released Keith’s hands and lifted him off his feet, spinning to approach his bed. Shiro practically threw Keith onto his mattress while crawling on top of him, lips chasing Keith’s skin hungrily.  

“Damnit Keith,” Shiro hissed. “Are we seriously going to do this?” 

Keith pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrutinized the screen. 

“We’re going to do this at least twice before dinner,” he calculated in his head. Shiro scrambled off of him, and for a moment, he wondered if he had gone too far, but Shiro was hurriedly shutting his bedroom door and locking it with a swift click before jumping back onto his bed. Keith let out a breathless huff as Shiro climbed on top of him, attacking him with kisses. 

“I was stupid... to think... I could hold back...” Shiro rasped between kisses. He guided his thigh between Keith’s legs, and both moaned at the friction. Keith could feel Shiro’s erection against his thigh.  

“Hey,” Keith murmured, lashes fluttering in pleasure. “Back up for a sec.” 

Shiro froze at the request, and immediately obeyed.  

“Further.” 

Shiro looked worried as he backed away from Keith until his was no longer hovering over him. 

“Sit on your heels,” Keith demanded. Shiro did as told, and Keith swallowed the saliva forming at the base of his tongue. Shiro looked incredible. His tank top hugged his figure, showing off his round pecs and small waist, and his tented sweatpants outlined the shape of his boner nicely. Keith sat up and mimicked Shiro’s posture, only less rigid. He placed his hands on Shiro’s thighs and gave them a firm squeeze as he leaned forward to peck the other’s lips, silently assuring him that nothing was the matter. The worried crease between Shiro’s brows immediately ironed out. Keith continued to rub his thighs as they kissed, enjoying the firm muscle tensing and relaxing beneath his grasp. Shiro didn’t seem to know what to do under Keith’s charge. He sat in seiza, compliant and docile to Keith’s touches and kisses. Keith experimentally dragged his hands between Shiro’s legs to caress his inner thighs, which elicited a strangled whine from the other. 

_Nice,_ Keith thought as he licked his lips hungrily. He shuffled a little closer, his knees forcing Shiro’s own apart. When Shiro spread his legs wide, it caused a tautness along his sweatpants that peaked around his erection. Keith automatically reached out to palm it, and Shiro bulked at the sudden contact. 

“Never thought you’d be this bold…” he admitted in a strangled tone. Keith didn’t think so either, but the knowledge that Shiro was wrapped around his finger as much as Keith was around his made him more sure of himself. Also after a year of thirsting for the other, it was all starting to pool out of him like the precum darkening the front section of Shiro’s sweatpants.  

“Do you mind?” 

“No way,” Shiro breathed.  

_Good._  

Keith continued palming Shiro’s erection as he shuffled closer to kiss him. He wanted to do more, but the delicious sounds Shiro was making proved too enticing to distance himself from. 

How long had Shiro been away from physical contact? How many months— no, _years,_ had he gone without intimacy? 

_Fuck._ The question sent his mind whirling. Keith bit the other’s lower lip, kneading the soft flesh between his teeth. Shiro’s pained gasp tickled Keith’s mouth, and he released his grip in order to pursue the other’s tongue with his own. The thought of Shiro falling for him years ago and being unable to find anyone else drove him insane. Whether that be the reality or not, Keith’s mind focused on the fact that Shiro spent _at least_ the last year single, liking Keith, and most probably comforting himself in this very room with only his hands. 

Maybe. 

“Hey,” Keith whispered against Shiro’s lips, raspy and out of breath. 

“Mm?” 

Keith smiled. Shiro was doing much worse than he was, which was surprising.  

“Do you...” 

Keith backed away for a moment, eyes focused on Shiro’s fluttering lashes. _God_ he looked ravished and they hadn’t even done anything yet. His soft, silver hair was a mess. His cheeks were tinted red and his lips were swollen and glistening. Shiro’s chest rose and fell in an even rhythm, matching his breathing. The way he sat on his heels made him look remarkably precious. Some primal part of Keith wanted to attack him, but he bit back the urge and refocused. He guided his hands beneath the waistband of Shiro’s pants, and with very little prompting to the other, lowered it enough to see the outline of his erection poking through the boxer briefs.  

“Do I what?” 

Keith was too focused making Shiro sit up from his heels so he could pull his underwear down to answer. 

“Keith?” 

Keith’s eyes trailed the large vein protruding along the leathery skin of Shiro’s exposed member. The head was flushed pink and shone with precum, the likes of which seemed to have spilled along the length, causing a discreet glisten along the member. Keith swallowed back the drool forming at the base of his mouth. 

“Do you have any sex toys?” He finally asked. With the way Shiro spoke to Keith over the phone last night, it seemed as though he was well versed in the art of anal pleasure.  

Shiro jolted at the question. 

“I uhh... w—why?” he stuttered. “Did you want to u—use something?” 

“No, I was just wondering how you got off without me.” 

Shiro let out a breathy laugh. “My hands, mostly.” He proved as much when he started stroking his cock, putting on a show for Keith. “What did you do without me?” 

“Same thing,” Keith admitted. “W—with my hands I mean.” The amount of restless nights that led to him jerking it to the thought of Shiro became too many to count. 

“Hey, did you finger yourself last night?” Shiro asked as he leaned forward, suddenly in Keith’s face. Keith peeled his eyes away from Shiro’s cock and gulped at the intensity behind the other’s gaze. It looked like someone had flipped a switch. 

“No,” Keith admitted. “I promised you, didn’t I?” 

“You did.” 

Shiro was pushing Keith to lie down, but Keith fought against it, eliciting a puzzled glance from the other. 

“I made you sit up so I could suck you off first,” Keith admitted.  

Shiro flushed. “You’re so straightforward,” he chuckled. 

Keith shrugged as he placed his hands tenderly on Shiro’s thighs. “You can do whatever you want with me after,” Keith assured him. Though he had let his mind wander to the idea of him making Shiro take his length, he could admit that he was far too inexperienced to lead that. 

At least for now. 

And Shiro reminding him of last night’s conversation reawakened that part of Keith yearning to know what it would feel like being stretched open by Shiro.  

_I want to be the one to make you feel good there._  

Keith shuddered at the memory, but pushed the deep, sultry voice aside to pursue his initial goal. He dug his thumbs into Shiro’s inner thighs and forced them as far apart as they could go against the restraint of his pants.  

“Be back in a few,” Keith said as he pecked Shiro on the cheek and lowered himself between the other’s legs.  

“Shut up,” Shiro laughed, though there was a tightness in his voice. His hands automatically fell on Keith’s shoulders. For a moment, Keith was certain Shiro would push him back, but the other’s large palms simply rested on the thin fabric of his shirt, the warms of his palms pooling through to his skin. Keith blinked, mouth leveled with the head of Shiro’s cock. _Whoa._ It suddenly hit him where he was and what he was doing.  

“Uh, Keith. You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” 

Keith automatically kissed the tip of Shiro’s penis. “God you’re cute,” he grumbled over the flushed skin, his nervousness immediately overruled by his yearning to make Shiro feel good. Nobody as sexy and sweet as Shiro deserved a case of blue balls at the hands of Keith’s incompetence. With that in mind, Keith ran his tongue along Shiro’s length, starting from the base of his cock right to the slit. Shiro gasped and twitched beneath him. 

_Wow._ Feeling Shiro’s penis twitch against his tongue was an experience he would log into the back of his brain for future pickings. Keith repeated the act a second time, running his tongue over the veiny member before twirling his tongue over the head of Shiro’s cock. 

_“Oh, fuck...”_ Shiro hissed. Keith experimentally encompassed Shiro’s head wholly and pushed down once, wondering what kind of reaction he would get. Shiro twitched in his mouth, another whispered curse escaping his lips.  

“Keith, please...” he rasped. Keith removed a hand from the other’s thigh to hold the base of his penis instead, careful not to tug at the coarse white hairs curling around the member. Keith kissed his way from the base back to the tip and repeated the act of swirling his tongue and bobbing his head over Shiro. He began with shallow strokes, careful not to graze his teeth over the sensitive skin, and adamant on pumping the part of Shiro his mouth couldn’t reach. Shiro’s moans were music to his ears. Keith pushed as far down as he could without gagging, making a mental note to keep practicing the act until he could deepthroat his boyfriend. In the present, however, Keith had to settle on reaching only half of Shiro’s length and stroking what his lips couldn’t reach in an even rhythm and to the best of his ability. 

“Baby... you feel so good,” Shiro hissed. His hand had found its way to Keith’s hair, the other rucking up his shirt, giving Keith a spectacular view of his abs and pale happy trail. Shiro tugged at the long strands of Keith’s hair every time his hips instinctively bucked in pleasure, saving Keith from gagging at the sudden thrusts.  

Keith inhaled deeply, reminding himself to breathe. His drool was beginning to mix with Shiro’s precum, forming a slick coat around his member. Shiro’s breathing came out hitched. He gasped and moaned every time Keith went down on him, acting like each roll of his tongue was as lewd and shocking as the first. Keith closed his eyes and focused on the taste of Shiro. It was salty like how he imagined his skin to taste, but with a coppery tang as well. It was hard to explain, but Keith loved it. It was non-offensive as it rested on his tongue; it was very Shiro. 

Keith didn’t know how much time passed between them. He lost himself in the act of giving head, only just becoming accustomed to Shiro’s girth and finding a steady rhythm that matched the shallow canting of the other's restless hips when the other found his voice. 

“Keith, I’m close...” Shiro rasped.  

Keith hummed around Shiro’s cock, one hand working the base while the other lovingly massaged his balls. Shiro must have enjoyed the vibration. The moan he let out was breathy and hid the sigh of Keith’s name; soft and desperate. Keith continued stroking his boyfriend with his mouth until Shiro tensed beneath him. The sensation of warm spunk hitting the back of his throat was foreign to Keith, but not unwelcomed. Keith moved his head back just enough so that his lips only encompassed the head of Shiro’s cock, encouraging him to continue pooling into his mouth. Shiro’s groan was loud. His twitches were violent and shook Keith’s head with each rope of cum that spilled out of him. Keith’s hair was tugged until he was certain he’d go bald, and yet the pain was satisfying. Everything Shiro did just then was satisfying to Keith. Despite the viscous seed settling on the base of Keith’s tongue, the raven’s thoughts were elsewhere. More specifically, his thoughts were envisioning the next time he’d be given the chance to suck the soul out of Shiro. 

He was already looking forward to it. 

When Keith pulled away, he didn’t hesitate to swallow his man’s discharge. The taste was a concentrated version of what he had experienced earlier when twirling his tongue along the head.  

_“Fuck,”_ Shiro rasped as he fell onto the mattress, lying on his side. Keith eyed him curiously.  

“You alright?” 

“You swallowed,” Shiro stated. “Also, my legs feel like my right arm.” 

“You don’t have a right arm,” Keith mentioned. 

“Yeah.” 

Keith laughed as he observed the ridiculousness of Shiro’s current position. He was lying on his side, shirt still rucked up over his abs and softening dick flopped to the side. His sweatpants were still hanging from his thighs, and Keith realized that he had unintentionally restrained Shiro’s movement while giving him head. He had been stuck in seiza for several agonizing minutes, stopping the blood circulation and numbing his legs. Whatever blood should have gone to his limbs went straight to his dick instead. 

“Sorry,” Keith smiled. He helped Shiro remove his pants and underwear, and he pushed his shoulder so that he lay on his back. Shiro covered his eyes with both hands as Keith positioned himself between his legs and caressed his large thighs, hoping to get some circulation back into his limbs. Shiro looked delectable lying beneath him. If Keith wasn’t so intent on sitting on that girthy cock the moment it became erect once again, he was certain he’d be plowing Shiro into the ground. 

“While you, uh, recover... is there...” Keith cleared his throat and tried again. “Where do you keep your... you know...” 

“My toys?” 

Keith flushed at the pluralization. “I meant your lube, but I’d love to know where you hide those too.” 

Shiro chuckled as he removed his hands to look up at Keith. He outstretched his arm, and Keith clasped it, assisting the other rise to a sitting position. Shiro cupped the back of Keith’s neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, the likes of which sent his mind whirling. Shiro was way too good at kissing. If Shiro kissed him like this in public, Keith wasn’t sure if he’d be able to restrain himself. 

“I’ll get it,” Shiro murmured as he pulled away. 

“Can you walk?” Keith joked as the other shifted off his bed to shuffle through the bottom drawer of his nightstand. 

“I can do plenty,” Shiro replied as he returned to Keith with a bottle in his hand. “I’ll be asking you if you can walk in a few,” he added darkly. Keith gulped in anticipation.  

“Brave words,” he chimed in with a confident smirk he truly was not feeling. _He’s about to tear me apart!_  

“So, you’ve never fingered yourself before.”

It was a phrased as a statement, not a question. Keith nodded as Shiro pushed him down onto his bed. Shiro hovered over him for a moment, taking in the sight before him until Keith squirmed impatiently. Letting out a small chuckle, Shiro worked off Keith's pants and tossed them aside. Keith groaned at the sight of his own erection tenting his underwear. The wet patch circled a greater circumference than he anticipated. He’d be embarrassed how wet he was for Shiro if the other hadn’t been reduced to a blubbered mess at the mercy of Keith’s mouth mere minutes ago. It was reassuring knowing that their lust for one another was equally reciprocated. 

“Okay. Tell me if you want me to stop,” Shiro instructed, eyebrows knit and posture exuding an air of seriousness as he pulled off Keith’s undies.  

“Yessir,” Keith saluted. 

Shiro scoff was accented by the sound of him uncapping the bottle of lube with a flick of his thumb. He squeezed out a small amount, coating his fingers generously before placing the bottle aside.  

“Spread your legs for me,” he requested while tapping Keith’s thigh. Keith raised his knees and parted his legs, face flushed at the sudden exposure. He might have been friends with Shiro for almost a solid year now, but that didn’t mean Shiro saw everything. They still had a ways to go in their relationship, and lying bare in Shiro’s bedroom reminded him again that they had a strange tenacity to jump the gun in their relationship.  

“Why are you laughing?” Shiro asked. 

“Was I laughing? I don’t think so...” 

“You’re fully smiling! What’s so funny?” Shiro was smiling too, Keith’s grin contagious.  

“I was just thinking about how I’m showing you my asshole before we technically have our first official date.” 

Shiro groaned at the confession. “Stop reminding me,” he requested weakly. “I give up on trying to go the conventional route with you.” 

“My dad always said; _follow your heart.”_  

“That’s sweet... I like that,” Shiro smiled. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be following my heart and touching your butthole.” 

Keith laughed and groaned and covered his face in utter embarrassment as he steeled himself for the foreign sensation. He jolted when a cold finger made contact with his taint. The taut skin between his anus and balls felt frozen under Shiro’s touch. Shiro paused, allowing Keith to adjust, and soon began his descent. Keith clutched the bedsheets beneath him haphazardly, doing his best not to squirm under Shiro. They haven't even done the hard part yet. It would look bad if Keith was twitching and flinching when Shiro was only— 

Keith jumped, unprepared for the freezing digit coating his rim with lubricant. 

“Sorry,” Shiro laughed. “It’s a little cold at first.” 

“Mhm,” is all Keith managed to croak. Shiro continued circling the rim, occasionally running his finger over the puckered entrance to spread the lube where it was most needed. 

“It’s going to feel _really_ weird a first.” 

“Okay.” 

“If it hurts or you become too uncomfortable, tell me, okay?” 

“You sound like a doctor,” Keith joked to disguise his uncertainty. 

“Would me snapping on some latex gloves turn you on?” 

“If you dare walk away, I’ll kill y—” 

Keith’s threat was cut off by a whine. He never would have expected such a sound to escape his lips, but the sudden pressure forcing through his pinched entrance made him cry out in shock. 

_Shiro’s in me. No big deal. This is totally normal._  

Shiro was looming over Keith, eyes scanning his face, trying to get a read for his expression as he pushed further into Keith. One knuckle sunk in, in, in until it the second was encompassed by Keith. Keith gritted his jaw at the strange sensation and tried not to shy away from the intrusive digit. This was weird. This feeling was way weirder than he could have anticipated. Even though Shiro was taking it slow; shallow trusts at a slow pace, Keith found his breathing hitched and chest heaving. He kept holding his breath every time Shiro’s finger pressed further past his sphincter. He felt full where he shouldn’t be. 

“You okay, Keith?” 

“Y-yeah,” Keith exhaled. _I need to breathe,_ he noted dizzily. Holding his breath was making him light-headed. 

“You’re doing good Keith,” Shiro murmured as he leaned down to kiss Keith’s lips. “So good...” They kissed for a few fleeting seconds, and Keith hummed happily at the distraction. The wet smack of their lips almost obscured the sound of Shiro’s finger lazily sliding in and out of him. 

“You think you can handle another one?” Shiro asked tentatively. 

“Y-you can try,” Keith croaked, Shiro’s question pulling him out of his lustful daze. He opened his legs wider, hoping it would somehow help. Shiro peppered his cheek in soft pecks as he traced a second finger around the rim already invaded by the single digit. Keith groaned as Shiro forced his second finger to join the first. 

_There’s no way this is_ _gonna_ _happen,_ Keith thought for a panicked moment. Shiro was big. How many fingers would he need to shove into Keith just to prepare him for that cock of his? And how would it feel? The tightness must feel great for Shiro, but to Keith it was just peculiar and uncomfortable.  

“Does it hurt?” 

“A little,” Keith admitted. Shiro pulled out both fingers, and Keith automatically gasped at the empty sensation. The imagery of something sheathed in him pulling out made the heat in his stomach swirl with arousal. There was at least that. He could probably get off at the thought of Shiro’s massive cock pummelling his tight entrance. 

“Let me...” the sound of the bottle opening echoed in the small room. Shiro poured another generous amount onto his fingers, and picked up where he left off. 

“You’re going to get your bed messy,” Keith protested as he eyed the clear contents dripping through Shiro’s fingers.  

“That’s what I want,” Shiro replied in earnest. Keith inhaled sharply as Shiro clutched one of his knees, forcing his legs further apart and returning his fingers into Keith. Keith arched his back and moaned at the sensation of Shiro scissoring him. His muscles ached where they were being stressed. The hunger in Shiro’s eyes kept him from backing out. He wanted whatever Shiro wanted. He trusted the other when he promised to make Keith feel good. 

“Okay,” Shiro murmured from where he hovered. “Okay,” he repeated, his tone low —almost as if he were talking to himself. “I think it’s best if we took our time with this.” 

Keith’s stomach flipped as he propped himself up on his forearms. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I want you to feel good.” 

“I... I do,” Keith lied. The idea of Shiro dragging this out sounded excruciating, and he’d much rather rush through it. 

“Oh babe,” Shiro mentioned as he leaned close. Their noses touched and Keith found himself lost in the other’s silver eyes. Shiro’s pupils were blown. “You haven’t felt anything yet.” 

Keith didn’t know how respond. He let his eyes flutter shut as Shiro kissed him. His mouth was prompted open with Shiro’s tongue, and Keith moaned as the slick muscle grazed over his teeth. He removed his grasp from the blanket beneath him and dragged his open palms along Shiro’s arms, feeling the bicep of one, and the cold, metal surface of the other until his fingers curled around broad shoulders. Shiro traced the sharp canines Keith often felt self-conscious of when smiling brightly. The act made him realize that there was nothing to hide with Shiro. His boyfriend would know every insecurity, every fear, every weakness; his greatest hopes and dreams, his wildest desires —Shiro would learn it all.  

“Sharp,” Shiro commented. His lips curled over Keith’s, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. Keith felt himself flush, body tingling with desire. 

And then Shiro did something that made Keith snap his pelvis forward and arch his spine back. He let out a pleasure cry as _something_ brushed his... 

“Fuck!” Keith cried as he crashed back down onto the mattress. “What was that?” he panted. Shiro’s fingers brushed something inside of him that made his vision go blank. His entire being felt like it was on fire.  

“What was what?” Shiro asked, resuming his original scissoring. Keith could no longer focus on the discomfort and slight pain that Shiro’s digits brought him. His insides throbbed in bliss. After a few more easy strokes from Shiro, Keith squirmed, trying to angle himself in a way that would allow him to experience that feeling once again. 

“Shiro... c’mon.” 

“What do you need, Keith?” 

“Whatever you did before,” Keith rasped. 

“This?” Shiro asked. He brushed the spot again, and Keith moaned in pleasure, his yearning body shuddering as it welcomed the relieving pressure sending shockwaves through his veins. 

“Yeah,” Keith gasped. “Yeah that. Do it again.” 

“Needy,” Shiro smirked. He continued pursuing Keith’s mouth, ignoring the other’s demand as he continued fingering him while avoiding brushing that pleasurable spot. 

“Shiro please,” Keith begged. He didn’t care about how desperate he sounded. He had never experienced such a burning hot desire rooted deep within. The sensation shook him to his very core. He wrapped his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and pulled him down for a sloppy kiss, his quiet pleas peppering the other’s glossy lips. “Do it again. C’mon Shiro, please. Stop holding back.” 

“Careful what you say,” Shiro growled. He kneaded Keith’s lower lip between his teeth, fingers moving faster within him. “Be happy I’m restraining myself.” 

Keith let out something between a scoff and a moan. Shiro brushed the spot again, if only fleetingly. He did it again after another few strokes, and Keith shamefully found himself mewling in despair and pleasure. He arched his back and widened his legs until he was certain he was doing the splits, a feat he hadn’t accomplished in years. 

“Third finger,” is all Shiro said as an overwhelming pain shot through Keith. It was quickly replaced with pleasure as Shiro returned to brushing his prostrate between easy strokes. “Fuck Keith, you’re taking it so well.” 

“Mm,” Keith hummed. He could no longer coordinate his tongue with Shiro’s persistent kisses, let alone form a coherent sentence. He let his mouth hang parted for Shiro, but otherwise focused on catching his breath. He couldn’t believe how good this felt. His erection was the hardest it’s ever been; the head pooling with precum that leaked onto his stomach. It twitched every time Shiro brushed his prostate, and his balls tensed in anticipation, threatening to release the stored seed at any given moment. 

“I’m close,” Keith realized.  

“Mmh, good.” 

Shiro didn’t stop. He twisted his fingers in Keith, using all three to stretch him open, scissoring only after hitting Keith’s prostate, expertly masking the pain with pleasure. Keith came the moment Shiro added his pinky finger. Though it didn’t hurt, the feeling of his entrance widening upon the pressure sent Keith over the edge. 

_“Oh God,”_ he cried out as his orgasm rolled his pelvis into the air. Keith’s balls tenses and relaxed in an uneven rhythm as ropes of his cum came sputtering out of his cock, coating his stomach in warm spunk. 

_“Fuck,_ Keith.” Shiro hissed, his curse escaping his swollen lips in a growl; long and low. Keith shuddered at the sound. “Baby, I haven’t even fucked you yet.” 

“There’s still time,” Keith whispered. His throat was raw from his moans and cries. His mind whirled as the other trailed the crook of his neck with his mouth, teeth gently grazing the sweaty skin. “I have pretty high stamina.” 

“We’ll put that to the test,” Shiro promised. His fingers slid out of Keith with an excruciatingly lewd sound. Both moaned in unison, turned on and aching for each other. Shiro’s arms reached over his shoulders as he pulled off his shirt, and Keith’s cock, blessed by his youth, stirred awake at the sight of Shiro’s body. Shiro sat on his heels, completely naked and attractiveness transcending the rank of every male model, every heroic legend, every Greek God known to hold their own. Shiro was the epitome of beautiful. His muscles curved over his large figure, marked with scars Keith had never seen before. Keith blinked as his eyes traced each pale marking permanently etched into the flushed skin. He only knew about a few scars; a handful on the other’s left arm, and a prominent one on the left thigh he had only just spotted when blowing him.

And of course, there was the one along is nose. 

But Keith gulped as he realized just how banged up Shiro had been in his accident. Whatever cut off his arm had done a lot of damage. Keith hadn’t asked Shiro about it before. It seemed like something very personal —something Shiro would tell him when he was ready.  

Keith wanted to kiss every scar until he had the lacerations committed to memory. He wanted to retain the placement of each cut the same way Shiro mastered the pathways of a cell and the constellations of their galaxy.


	6. Pineapple on Pizza

Keith swallowed hard as he eyed Shiro’s sculpted abs. They beckoned him forward, demanding that his tongue trace the flushed skin. Despite the yearning pushing him forward, Keith was only able to prop himself onto his forearms before Shiro pressed him down against the mattress once again. When they kissed, it was hungry and hard-pressed. Keith’s nose hurt as it was squished against Shiro’s. His lips throbbed the further his boyfriend attempted to explore his mouth, sloppy but with traces of amusement and experience. Shiro’s tongue ran hot as it licked the inside of his mouth, slow and experienced and drawing a long moan from Keith. 

_“Fuck_ Keith,” Shiro whispered against his lips. “I wanna ruin you.” 

Keith stomach burned with desire. “Do it,” he rasped. Keith kept his legs wide open for Shiro when being fingered, and he didn’t dare change positions when the other pulled out, displaying his want for more. Shiro cursed under his breath as he positioned himself between Keith’s legs. He rubbed his hardened cock a few times, building precum at the tip and sliding it around the rim of Keith's anus, earning a pleasurable shudder from the man beneath him. Shiro leaned forward, and Keith automatically tensed in anticipation.  

“Relax,” Shiro cooed as he slid his cock between Keith’s legs. Keith wanted to relax. Shiro’s act of sliding his member between the valley of his ass up until it hit the base of his balls sent his mind reeling. He needed more. 

Keith exhaled noisily through his nose and closed his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’m ready.” 

Shiro didn’t pause the way Keith expected him to when he lined his cock with Keith’s entrance. There was no warning. Only pressure. 

_“Oh fuck,”_ Keith groaned as a brief moment of pain shot through his spine. He jolted when Shiro pushed past his sphincter, not because there wasn’t enough lubrication (there was plenty of that), but because, apparently, four fingers was not enough to prepare him for Shiro’s cock. “Holy shit,” Keith cursed at that tidbit of information now stored in the back of his mind. He considered that, in his lustful daze, his thoughts (and hopes) might be over exaggerating Shiro’s girth, but when the pain didn’t subside as Shiro pressed forward, Keith accepted that this was his fate. He’d be spending his days getting fucked by a monster cock. 

“Is this okay?” Shiro asked as he pulled out slightly. Keith answered by moaning and squirming beneath him. Shiro let out a breathless chuckle as he leaned down to kiss Keith’s lips. The wet smacks of their kissing mixed with their huffs and desperate panting. They were both pent up and barely holding on.  

Shiro pressed his forehead against Keith’s, and stared deep into his eyes as he snapped his pelvis forward.  

Keith gasped and feverishly wrapped his arms around the other’s shoulders as he repeated the act. Shiro’s thrusts were shallow, but each made Keith’s body rock against the mattress. Keith’s head lolled to the side, away from Shiro, as a stream of moans escaped his swollen lips. His palms slid over Shiro’s shoulders and down his back, slipping easily over the skin.  

“You’re taking me so well,” Shiro commented after a moment. Keith immediately shuddered at the compliment. It was dirty. He imagined how Shiro’s cock was stretching him open. He imagined how his body easily gave in to the other’s length. “You’re so good to me.” 

Keith whimpered, nails desperately digging into Shiro’s back, trying to make purchase of the sweaty skin. He couldn’t be bothered to care about the potential blood drawn along the hot flesh. Shiro was getting it easy compared to Keith’s ass. Shiro was pushing further into him. He was testing how much Keith could take, and apparently, it was quite a bit.  

It was all of it. 

Keith arched his back and moaned loudly as Shiro stopped his thrusts to sheath himself to the hilt. Keith’s legs were open wide until his bones ached and his muscles screamed. Shiro had pulled his lips away from kissing Keith so he could cup his legs. He held Keith by the back of his thighs, holding them up and giving himself room to squeeze and squeeze and _squeeze_ until he was fully encompassed by the warm walls of Keith’s muscles. 

“Shit, Shiro!” Keith cried. The other wasn’t moving. He loomed over Keith, pupils blown, lips parts, and expression the darkest Keith had ever seen it. Shiro looked inhuman for a moment —he looked godly. Rippling muscles taut beneath smooth, glowing skin; the likes of which were peppered in pale scars of deep cuts. Shiro was too good to be true.  

“Fuck,” he hissed. Keith’s eyes fluttered in arousal as the other licked his lips —predatory. “Keith,” Shiro started. He leaned closer to Keith, the change in position causing more of his weight to build pressure in Keith. Keith whined in warning. Shiro was splitting him apart. “I want to ruin you.” 

_You already have,_ Keith thought. 

“Do it,” he whispered instead. He wanted Shiro to destroy him. Fuck walking. He had a boyfriend now. Keith was certain Shiro would gladly carry him anywhere he wanted to go as compensation for tearing him a new one. 

Shiro didn’t need any more goading from Keith. He canted his hips, slow at first and building speed, encouraging a low groan from Keith and a broken moan from himself. Shiro’s thrusts were devastating. He was no longer teasing Keith. Every other snap of his pelvis resulted in a broken cry from Keith. Shiro was consistently brushing his prostate. He steadily built pressure in Keith’s lower stomach, unyielding in his pleasure-giving until Keith saw stars. The noises made between the two were lewd. The sound of skin slapping skin blended in with the creaking of Shiro’s bed. His headboard rapped against the wall of his bedroom in rhythmic _thumps_ , and yet Keith barely noticed as his focus fell on the indescribable squelching of Shiro’s lube and cum-ridden cock pulling out and slamming back into him.  

“Shiro,” Keith moaned, over and over until the name sounded foreign on his tongue. “Shiro, _please_ _._ _"_  

Keith’s desire to come outweighed the last bit of dignity he was desperately holding onto like the muscle of Shiro’s back. Keith didn’t care anymore. He begged and begged for Shiro to finish him. He pleaded for speed. _Faster Shiro. Harder, please —ah! Harder, harder!_ His vocabulary was down to four words. It didn’t matter. What mattered was Shiro’s relentless movements. He was there to finish Keith off. His fingers, both mechanical and human, were digging so roughly into Keith’s flesh that he could feel the skin bruise in real time. His thighs shook where they were held, wide open and stretched far beyond their limits. And Keith’s anus, full, tender, loose and raw, tightened in anticipation as the pleasurable heat building in his leaking cock threatened to give way. Keith was about the come undone.  

“Shiro, I’m close,” Keith warned. He expected Shiro to whisper something dirty in response. He expected Shiro to encourage his climax with honeyed words and a hungry expression. What he didn’t expect was for Shiro to sit up straighter. He didn’t expect Shiro, propped on his knees, to lift himself onto his feet while continuing to fuck his hole. Keith cried out as Shiro practically folded him in half. Keith’s knees almost touched his chest as Shiro laid into him, movements vigorous and heated. The angle was different. Shiro was no longer brushing his prostate. He was hitting it dead-center each thrust. Keith could no longer see. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and stars danced along the blackness of his vision. He knew he was yelling, but his voice felt distant. It didn’t feel like it was _his_ blissful cries reverberating through the room, but someone else's. Even through his orgasm, Keith barely registered the ropes of cum spilling out of him and onto his chest and stomach.  

“Fuck baby, you’re so hot,” Shiro whispered. If he noticed Keith cumming, it went ignored. He didn’t yield. Shiro continued pounding him raw until, eventually, he let out his own cry of pleasure. Keith gasped as Shiro pressed into him, as deep as possible, and spilled his seed.  

“Oh _god,”_ Keith whimpered. Shiro’s spunk was hot as it settled within him. Shiro panted and groaned as he encouraged the last of his cum into Keith before pulling out, and both immediately crashed the moment their bodies were no longer intimately connected.  

“Holy shit,” Keith mumbled. He lowered his limbs onto the mattress, aching at the angle Shiro held him in for such a long period of time and uncaring for the cum undoubtedly spilling out of him. He tried to clench, hoping to hold in as much of Shiro’s semen as he could, but part of Keith knew that he was fucked too loose to control his muscles there. It would take some time to recover. 

“Uh... okay. Wow,” Shiro responded. He was lying on his stomach, his prosthetic outstretched over Keith’s tummy and other hand sprawled on the other side of the mattress. His head was tilted to the side to face Keith, fringe messy and eyes sparkling. “That was...” 

“Incredible,” Keith breathed. Shiro pulled himself closer so they could press their sweaty foreheads together. Keith blinked past the exhaustion and smiled lazily at Shiro.  

“What did I do to deserve someone like you,” Shiro whispered. His hot breath tickled Keith’s lips. Keith hummed sleepily, eyelids feeling heavy as Shiro continued murmuring sweet nothings to him. “You’re beautiful like this, Keith. Your skin is glowing babe. _God,_ I love you.” 

“Mm,” Keith smiled contently. “Been dreaming of you saying that for forever.” 

Shiro let out a scoff that transitioned into an easy chuckle. “For a year. Imagine me craving that phrase for over four.” 

Keith shrugged against Shiro’s hold. “Guess we’re both sorta lucky I crashed my bike that night. Destiny and all that.” 

Shiro stiffened at the mention of Keith’s accident. He pulled Keith closer, his lips now firmly pressed on his forehead. He kissed the sweaty hairs stuck to his forehead, once, twice, three times before brushing the bangs away so he could connect his lips with the skin. Keith closed his eyes as Shiro kissed his forehead repeatedly. It was extremely comforting. He hadn’t felt such genuine affection before. Keith’s heart swelled with love for Shiro, and he fought to gulp against the constriction in his throat. Even if the topic of his crash made Shiro uncomfortable, Keith truly thought it was a miracle that it happened. If he hadn’t been sent to the hospital, if he hadn’t blatantly flirted with his nurse and made a big enough scene to get his friends involved, he wouldn’t be here right now, basking in post-orgasmic bliss, cuddling with the man he had fallen for once so long ago. 

“Keith.” 

“Hm?” 

“I think —I think we need to talk about your accident.” 

“Why?” Keith asked automatically despite being too drowsy to listen. Shiro said something, but all Keith heard was something about it being dark. And his name. And his name again. Keith. Keith, _Keith!_  

“Huh? Wha—?” 

Shiro huffed in his face, the puff of hot air making Keith scrunch his nose. “Did you hear a word I said?” 

“Um... Something about me?” 

“God. Okay, never mind. We’ll talk about it over dinner. Sleep.” He complimented the word with a peck on Keith’s nose, and guided Keith’s face into the crook of his neck. Keith hummed contently and inhaled the scent of his boyfriend. And without a second thought, Keith let himself relax into slumber while holding Shiro close. 

*** 

Keith woke up to the sensation of a heavy hand on his shoulder. He grumbled and groaned, realizing someone was trying to wake him, and requested for a measly five minutes. The hand went away, and Keith happily buried his face into his pillow. His body ached. He didn’t want to move. 

Why did his body ache? 

Keith’s memories came back before he could finish asking himself the question.  

Wow. He and Shiro had sex. _Passionate_ sex. His body was aching because Shiro didn’t hold back. His thighs were sore because they were held wide apart and forced over his torso. His throat was raw because Shiro’s cock breached its walls. And his asshole... Keith winced as he shifted his legs together. His ass took a pounding. 

He would never forget this day. 

“Shiro?” Keith asked into his pillow. 

The sensation of the mattress dipping beside him made Keith tilt his head towards it. Shiro was smiling down at him, damp hair slicked back and a charming grin brightening his features. He had a towel wrapped around his neck, catching the water building at the base of his neck and the thicker locks of his slicked back hair. He was in a black t-shirt and jeans. A simple outfit that was made to look incredibly sexy for the mere reason that it was Shiro wearing it. 

“You should drop this science bullshit and become a model.” 

Shiro leaned forward to kiss Keith’s cheek. “Weren’t we supposed to explore the galaxies together?” 

Keith’s heart flipped at the reminder. 

“Right. Never mind.” Keith observed Shiro for a moment, appreciating the sight before realizing how disgusting he must have looked in comparison. Keith sat up, winced, and reposition himself while holding the blanket sprawled over him close to his privates.  

“Shiro, do you mind if I borrow your shower...” 

“It’s the first door to the right,” Shiro smiled. “I threw your clothes in the wash, by the way. You can borrow Matt’s stuff, I chose them myself so they’re definitely clean and already on the countertop.”  

Keith nodded, appreciating Shiro’s consideration. He definitely soiled his underwear with pre-cum while blowing Shiro, and he undoubtedly sweat through and wrinkled his shirt and pants during that as well.  

“Are his clothes fancy enough for a restaurant?” 

Shiro laughed a bit awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head. “About that...” 

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked. He slipped his legs over the bed, wondering if he was supposed to boldly walk through the halls of Shiro’s _shared_ residence buck naked and bruised, or if Shiro would offer him some form of decency before his mad dash to the bathroom. 

“I called and cancelled.” 

“What?! Why?” 

“I figured it’d be easier to just... stay here and relax. Order pizza maybe.” 

Keith frowned. Did Shiro not want to do something romantic as their first date? Had he ruined the mood by pouncing on him like an animal? 

“Sorry Shiro... I didn’t mean to oversleep and stuff.” _Stuff_ implying his feral actions earlier. 

“No, no, no! Don’t be sorry. I just don’t want you being uncomfortable the entire time.” 

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” Keith asked while standing. He got his response immediately in the form of his wobbling legs. Keith fell back onto the couch, and gasped at the pain shooting up his spine. 

_Holy shit!_  

_“Oh,”_ he croaked weakly. Oh. He wouldn’t be able to ride his motorcycle, let alone walk to it. He wouldn’t be able to sit for over an hour on a semi-padded chair and try to hold casual conversation without looking fidgety. Hell, would he even be able to shower right now? 

“Pizza sounds like a good idea,” Keith said instead, mustering up the strength to stand again. _You can do this,_ he thought. He had just been thrown off the first time he got up from the mattress. He cleared his throat awkwardly and took a few tentative steps forward, allowing the blanket covering his crotch to fall back onto the bed.  

“Good?” Shiro asked, also standing, palms haphazardly outstretched. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Keith replied. His thighs felt like he had run up twenty flights of stairs just so he could do a few dozen squats at the top. “Just need to... wash up.” 

“What do you want on your pizza?” Shiro approached Keith while removing the towel from his neck. 

“Get whatever you want.” 

“Tell me what you like,” Shiro insisted. He wrapped the towel around Keith’s waist and secured it with ease, hands remaining firm on Keith’s hips. 

“Just pepperoni is fine with me.” 

Shiro hummed, distracted as his thumb brushed up, over the towel and onto Keith’s skin. “You’re pretty tiny here,” he mentioned. Keith had no response to that. Shiro seemed to make that comment more to himself if anything. 

Keith waited a beat before pulling Shiro out of his trance by leaning forward and pecking him on the lips. 

“I’ll be back,” he said before walking towards the door. After checking to see if the coast was clear, Keith scurried into the bathroom and immediately approached the mirror after locking the door behind him. It took him five minutes of gawking at himself before he gathered the strength to tear his eyes away from his reflection and step into the tub to shower, almost disbelieving just _how ravished_ he looked after only _one_ round of sex with Shiro. Keith showered as quickly as he could given his aching limbs. He scrubbed as much of his skin with soap as possible, and very carefully tended to his privates, wincing at both the throbbing pain and the lewd sensation of curling a finger into himself to scoop out what he could of Shiro.  

_Fuck._ He ached in the best way. After finishing his shower, Keith allowed himself a moment to just stand and stare at his toes, letting himself gather his thoughts. Not wanting to increase Shiro’s water bill, Keith turned off the faucet and sighed contently. He could see himself getting used to this. He could see himself sharing Shiro’s space, his home. Shiro would happily accommodate for Keith. Keith would take priority over his roommate’s comfort, Keith already knew this. Smiling to himself at the thought of his doting boyfriend, Keith stepped out of the tub and grabbed the clean towel Shiro had folded on the counter for him. He dried his body quickly and let the towel sit on his wet hair while he reached for Matt’s borrowed clothes. The boxer-briefs were brand new, to Keith’s relief. They were still in the box, one of three pairs that Keith knew he wasn’t going to return. The clothes smelled like Shiro’s. A sweet detergent, freshly washed —undoubtedly folded by him too. Keith clenched his fist in affection at the imagery of Shiro sitting on his heels while folding the laundry he washed for his roommates like a cute little housewife. 

Before he could get another boner at the thought of housewife Shiro cooking dinner in nothing but an apron, Keith tugged the plain gray shirt over his head and stepped into the black basketball shorts provided. The clothes fit him well. Pidge’s older brother had the same build as Keith. After spending a moment roughly towel-drying his hair, Keith stepped out of the humid bathroom and inhaled the cooler air of the hallway. He padded carefully over the carpet and walked into Shiro’s room hesitantly. 

“Pizza’ll be here in ten,” Shiro said with a smile. He was sitting on his bed, the sheets neatly folded beneath his crossed legs and pillow replaced at the head of the mattress, perfectly centered and tucked in. Keith immediately crawled onto Shiro’s lap. He wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders, crossed his ankles behind his lower back, and buried his face into his neck, inhaling the strong scent of soap and aftershave.  

“How’s uh... How’re you feeling?” Shiro asked. Keith knew he was asking about his backside in particular, and chose to tease Shiro for a moment instead of providing a straightforward answer, enjoying the squirming beneath him. 

“I feel great,” Keith smiled. 

“Good. Good. So... nothing hurts?” 

“Why would something hurt?” Keith asked, feigning ignorance. 

“No reason! It’s just that you were sorta... you know. When walking to the bathroom.” 

“What was I doing when walking to the bathroom?"

There it was. Shiro squirmed uncomfortably beneath Keith, uncertain and bashful. 

“Limping?” he squawked. 

“Holding in your cum,” Keith corrected. The answer made Shiro let out a strangled noise. His grip on Keith tightened, and Keith swore he felt something twitch beneath him, although that might have just been his wishful thinking. Before Keith could tease a full-blown erection out of Shiro, the sound of the doorbell ringing, following by the heavy rasping of a knock caught their attention. 

“Pizza’s here!” Shiro croaked as he stood up with Keith still koala’d to him. He carried Keith all the way down the stairs without slowing his pace, strong arms holding up Keith like he weighed nothing. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, Keith begrudgingly let go of Shiro so he could fish out some money from his wallet and kindly greet the delivery person. With two large pizzas now in his hand, Shiro grinned at Keith and kicked the door close behind him. 

“Let’s find a movie to watch.” 

*** 

Keith could barely concentrate on the television screen. Luckily for him, Shiro chose a movie Keith had watched several times in the past, thanks to Lance’s constant need to play it in the background of their home like ambient noise. Knowing the movie to heart meant that Keith knew all the appropriate reactions to make while barely paying attention. His thoughts, however, were somewhere else completely. Firstly, he couldn’t get over walking into the living room and coming face-to-face with Matt’s utterly smug yet disgusted expression.  

_“You were_ so _fucking loud, Keith.”_  

Keith had flushed at the blatant call-out. He looked at Shiro, who too was blushing but choosing to ignore his friend as he set the pizza boxes down on the coffee table and focusing his energy on finding the remote control. 

_“_ _Keith_ _I thought he was murdering you. I had to stop myself from calling the police three different times.”_  

_“Matt.”_ Shiro has said sternly. Matt, rather than backing down, only turned his attention to Shiro.  

_“And_ you! _You know other people live here! You know how thin the walls are.”_  

_“Matt we are_ not _doing this right now.”_  

_“I had to hear you_ doing _Keith. I think I’ve earned some chiding points.”_  

_“Just take the pizza and go,”_ Shiro sighed. And Matt did. He looked at the contents of the two large boxes, rolled his eyes at one and took the other. 

And that led Keith to ponder something else entirely in disbelief.  

Shiro liked pineapple on pizza.  

Keith stared down at the slice he had already bitten into twice. It was good. He had eaten pineapple on pizza before, and thought he hated it, but Shiro’s pizza was different. It was pineapple, red onion and grilled chicken over cheese and a barbecue sauce base rather than tomato sauce. It was sweet as fuck, and unsurprisingly something Shiro inhaled without batting an eye. Keith liked it enough to grab his third slice, but slowed his eating for the sole purpose of ensuring Shiro ate his pizza to his heart’s content. Keith felt bad that Shiro was forced to share his beloved pizza after buying their orders separately. He’d make it up to Shiro’s empty pocket and emptier stomach by speaking with Matt later. Maybe they could come up with some terms and conditions for whenever Keith decided to visit Shiro, and seal with deal with Matt buying Shiro his pizza back as a truce.  

Keith snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Shiro chuckling. He glanced at the screen and realized that they were close to the end of a movie. The protagonist was a love-struck fool who took all the right risks for the person they loved; but couldn’t express their feelings through the one way their love interest needed it —with words. After a series of comical interactions and frustrating dead-ends, the protagonist realized what she needed to do, plain and simple. Keith would admit that the scene they were watching always made him excited if not a little emotional. The build-up to the confession was one of the best. The protagonist sprinted through a crowd of people separating her from her love. Like parting water, the people acting as physical obstacles jumped out of her way. She sprinted faster than ever before, legs blurred as concrete dipped into an open parking lot. The protagonist’s love interest had just gotten on the bus, but if she got on their motorcycle in time...  

“Oh yeah,” Keith said at the sight. “What were you trying to say earlier?” 

“Hm?” Shiro croaked. His eyes were glued to the screen, misty and focused on the chase scene. Keith smiled at the sight. Shiro had even stopped eating to watch the big confession. That meant it was really important to him. Keith clicked his tongue to say never mind and let the movie play out. Though he didn’t watch it, Keith knew exactly what was happening based on the music and Shiro’s reactions alone. Once the movie ended, Keith leaned forward and thumbed away the fat tears rolling down Shiro’s cheeks. 

“You’re such a softy,” Keith said fondly.  

Shiro sniffled and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “That was a sweet ending, let me live!” He laughed. Keith leaned even closer, close enough to kiss away the remaining tears.  

“You have a heart of gold,” Keith smiled.  

“Sorry,” Shiro said with a smile of his own. “What were you saying before?” _God,_ he looked precious with his watery eyes and reddened lower lids. His lashes were wet with tears and stuck together, making them seem longer and thicker than Keith thought possible. Keith held Shiro’s cheeks close together until his lips were purse. He kissed his boyfriend’s forced pout several times before pulling away with a loud _mwuah_ _!_  

“I asked about earlier. After we fucked—” 

“Fucked...” Shiro repeated in a broken voice. 

“—you said you wanted to talk about my accident?” 

Shiro blinked at Keith, and his shoulders fell at the question. 

“Yeah. I did.” He grabbed Keith’s wrists and pulled them away from his face and onto his lap. He clasped Keith’s hands tenderly as he twisted himself on the couch to face him entirely. “There’s something that happened that I was too scared to tell you...” 

Keith’s stomach churned. This was serious. He sat up straighter, more attentive in response to Shiro’s stiff body language. 

“Fuck Keith, okay... I’m just going to say it, okay?” 

Keith nodded, teetering on the edge of terrified. 

“I was the one you crashed into back at the desert.” 

Keith’s brain stuttered to a stop.  

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“I...” Shiro’s voice faltered and his head dropped, hands still grasping Keith’s tightly. 

“Shiro? You were the one I hit?” 

“No,” Shiro whispered. “I hit you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there! Next chapter will probably be the last! Thank you for sticking tight~


	7. New Year's Eve

“I hit you.”

The words echoed in Keith’s head, over and over as if trying to make sense of itself.

“You hit me?” Keith repeated. It didn’t make sense. The crash was bad. Was Shiro trying to tell him that, while Keith broke an arm and fractured a couple ribs, he got away without a single scratch and nursed him back to health? That didn’t make sense unless Shiro _had_ gotten injured and the Garrison’s advanced medical technology pulled him into a state of well-being immediately. If that was the case, then...

Keith paled as he squeezed Shiro’s hand tightly.

“Your arm,” he gasped. “You lost your arm because of me...”

 _“No,_ Keith!” Shiro blurted. “No, no. This was a while ago.”

“Then... that scar on your nose?”

“Even you know that was way before the accident.”

“Right...”

Keith observed Shiro carefully. Worry lines creased the other’s brows and wrinkled the bridge of his nose. He seemed incapable of holding Keith’s gaze, which was worrisome.

“So you were just... in the desert?”

Shiro let out a shaky breath and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I should be explaining myself. I... yeah. I was in the desert.”

Keith nodded and squeezed Shiro’s hand to continue. The other’s eyes were downcast as he spoke.

“Sometimes, when I’m really stressed or tired or just... need a break, I take my bike out to the desert. It’s something I’ve done for years now to take my mind of school or work; in this case both.”

“Shiro, I do the same thing. This sounds like an accident,” Keith assured the other. “Stop looking like I’m about to walk out on you.”

Shiro let out a breathy chuckle. He _finally_ looked Keith in the eyes, his own teetering on the brink of misty. He looked vulnerable.

“Let me explain what happened.”

Keith nodded, and Shiro started from the beginning.

***

Shiro had tried quitting his nursing job a year before his and Keith’s accident. He had kept up with it during his aerospace program because the money was good and the Garrison’s hospital gave additional benefits over the ones provided by the school for all enrolled students. But it had started becoming too much for Shiro. Between balancing the part-time hours along with his school work and social life, Shiro knew he had to end it. Leaving wasn’t easy. Doctor Ellen Sanda, the head of the entire hospital, made Shiro leaving his position quite difficult. It was partly his fault for being on her bad side to begin with. Shiro had used his networks to land the job against all odds. Most nursing students were left to fend for themselves after their four-month placement ended. Shiro fought to stay. He made Doctor Sanda’s life a living hell for the month following the end of his placement with meetings, panels with his networks, and even a trial from the school arguing his case. It was understandable that after giving her such a difficult time to work in the hospital, she would get back at him tenfold for wanting to leave.

Shiro was having a particularly bad day —scratch that, _month,_ when he decided to go out for a little joy ride. Doctor Sanda was on Shiro’s ass during midterms. In the semesters previous, Shiro was able to sneak in a longer break to study, or slip out of the hospital anywhere from ten to thirty minutes earlier than his shift would permit to hit the books. Unfortunately, ever since he put a large target on his back, Shiro wasn’t allowed to leave until the clock struck the hour. That morning, he went into his exam feeling like shit, came out knowing his did poorly, and was given an earful by Sanda for being ten minutes late rushing into his afternoon shift. All in all, it was a crappy day and Shiro wanted to forget about it. The moment he was home later that night, he strapped on his helmet, jumped onto his motorcycle, and sped down the streets towards a pocket of the desert he knew well, uncaring that it was almost pitch black out by the time he reached the familiar flats with jutting boulders and towering hoodoos. 

Shiro usually followed the same path every time he rode in the desert. He decided to break that habit the same way he broke his contract mere hours ago. Still pent up with rage and adrenaline after telling Sanda that he would never step foot in the Garrison hospital again, even if he was dying, Shiro twisted the handle, revving his motorcycle and accelerating at a dangerous pace. 

Shiro had been so focused on the path in front of him that he didn’t notice another blaring headlight coming his way until it was too late to react. The other motorcyclist noticed him first, but they too couldn’t respond in a safe manner. Shiro gasped in shock at the sound of the other’s breaks screeching to a halt and launching the rider off the bike and into Shiro’s moving vehicle at alarming speeds. The knockback threw Shiro off his motorcycle, and he rolled several times until his back hit a hoodoo. Shiro was not okay. He felt beads of his blood forming around his elbows and knees. His back ached something fierce, and he held his breath for a moment as a wave of numbness encompassed him. He gritted his teeth against the rising panic, unsure if he had just become paralyzed. 

Shiro took several calming breaths and went through his routine protocol. Started with his fingers and toes, he curled them over and over until he was certain he had feeling and control. After that, he moved onto his limbs. Realizing he could move, and certain he was not concussed, Shiro sat up and assessed his body’s condition. He had several cuts from his skin breaking and dragging along the ground, and he knew without touching it that his nose was bleeding. Breathing through his mouth and ignoring his body’s protests, Shiro removed his helmet, forced himself to stand, and approached the fallen individual. Shiro immediately fell onto his knees at the sight before him. The person’s helmet had come flying off in the crash. Shiro felt another wave of panic rise in his throat at the sight before him. He was staring at Keith’s bloody, unconscious figure.

***

“I called the ambulance immediately and patched up what I could myself,” Shiro explained. “God Keith,” he whispered. “I thought I killed you.”

Keith removed his hands from Shiro’s grasp to cup his cheeks. His thumb brushed away a stray tear. 

“You didn’t. And this wasn’t your fault.”

“I was being selfish and reckless.”

“You were just riding your bike to blow off some steam.” Keith leaned forward to peck Shiro’s eyelid. The long lashes tickled his lips as he repeated the act a few more times. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Shiro. Accidents happen.”

“You didn’t see how bad you looked,” Shiro grumbled. 

“Gee, thanks.”

“No,” Shiro laughed. “You know what I mean.”

Keith smiled kindly at the other, happy to see the frown leave his face. Honestly, Keith was a little shocked hearing how Shiro let his emotions rile him up enough to ride at almost 120 km/h in the middle of the night with nothing to guide him but his intuition and the headlights of his motorcycle. It seemed very un-Shiro-like to act so brash. But that might have been the problem. Shiro had taken on so much at such a young age; it wasn’t a surprise that everyone only saw him as a perfect adult rather than the young man still trying to figure his shit out. It was an unfair weight on his shoulders, and when Shiro could no longer handle it, he only found himself at fault, which wasn’t fair.

“I was doing the same dumb shit at the same time,” Keith reassured the other. “Considering how big the desert is, the fact that we came together is honestly a miracle.”

“I'm almost certain we could have avoided all of this if I had just asked you out any one of those hundred times I saw you at school... You’re easily the best stress relief.”

Keith flushed. He knew Shiro meant as emotional support, but his mind veered off a completely different direction.

“How we got together doesn’t matter,” Keith shrugged. “What’s important...” he emphasized while stealing a chaste kiss mid-sentence. “...is that you’re mine now. And I’m never letting go.”

Shiro all but deflated onto Keith. “Thank god,” he murmured against Keith’s shoulder. Keith laughed as the other pulled him onto his lap for a vigorous hug. They sat in each other’s arms for several minutes, movie credits blaring in the background forgotten as the two kissed each other sweetly.

“By the way,” Keith eventually asked after pulling away from Shiro’s parted mouth. He wiped the string of saliva tethered between them and continued. “Didn’t you tell Sanda you’d rather die than step foot into there again?”

“You were my priority and the Garrison was the closet hospital. I wasn’t going to be petty.”

“But... you were my nurse for the two weeks I was there...”

“It’s fine.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I just went in as a volunteer.”

“You volunteered your time for two weeks, unpaid, just to look after me personally?”

 “Well, I had to take on other patients, but essentially... yes.”

“You’re crazy.”

“It was worth it when you hugged me,” Shiro laughed. “And said all those things.”

Keith groaned in embarrassment. “Please don’t remind me.”

“If Lance wasn’t there...”

“You’d let me go down on you?”

“No! Yes. Maybe. No, no I wouldn’t. There are security cameras everywhere.”

“So if there wasn’t you would let me, little ol’ Keith in his arm cast and bandaged head, suck your cock right there on the hospital bed.”

Shiro’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped nervously, the glint in his eyes very telling despite his silence.

“Wow.”

“I wouldn’t,” Shiro croaked. “That would be taking advantage.”

Keith growled and kissed Shiro’s neck several times before leaning up to pepper his cheeks. “I know. I know you wouldn’t. You’re an angel.”

“But if you ever want to re-enact that scenario...”

“Shiro please,” Keith grinned. “Take me out to dinner first.”

“Right,” Shiro laughed. “Maybe we should have our first date before...”

“The kinky hospital role-playing sex? Yeah.”

The two laughed and spent the rest of the night holding each other close and showing each other in the affection both rightfully deserved. 

***

Keith was the most excited he’s ever been, with the exception of meeting Shiro, or kissing Shiro, or fucking Shiro, or... 

Basically, with the exception of anything Shiro-related, this would count as the most excited Keith has ever been.

“Guys. Guys I see the chair. Why is the chair there? I don’t remember being briefed on who we were foldy-chair of dooming this fine afternoon.”

Lance was rambling because he was nervous. He knew what was happening. 

“It took us a while,” Hunk said while pushing Lance into the living room. “But we finally gathered enough evidence.”

“Evidence? Evidence for what?”

“For how stupid you act, especially around Allura.” Pidge adjusted her glasses as she chimed in. “You need to experience how unbearable you are.”

“I’m not sitting in that chair,” Lance croaked. He turned away from Hunk’s hand and walked straight into Shiro’s broad chest. 

“You are,” Keith said with a wicked grin. “And Shiro’s going to help you sit if you can’t figure it out yourself.”

“Your boyfriend doesn’t scare me,” Lance argued. “He might be massive but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I absolutely would and have hurt flies,” Shiro mentioned. Keith grinned widely at Shiro, knowing well that his boyfriend hated insects with a burning passion. 

“Sit on the chair, Lance.”

Lance didn’t have a choice. Shiro spun the other around and guided him towards the eight-dollar seat with a firm hand grasping his shoulder, his fingers digging into the muscle and undoubtedly hurting him given Lance’s pained grimace. Shiro sat Lance down and stood behind him, arms folded and smirk prominent. _God,_ he was handsome. Keith would have to thank him for playing security guard like that later tonight. For now, however, his focus was on Lance. They were finally getting back at him for all the times he had blatantly called out his friends’ shameful behaviour. It was time to return the favour he had gracefully bestowed to each and every one of them at one point in their lives. He was indirectly going to be told to get his shit together, the same way he had done to them in the past.

“I don’t want to do this,” Lance squawked as his friends surrounded him. Matt couldn’t participate this time around, but he was there with them in spirit. Spirit being that at least three or four of the clips complied in the video they were about to show Lance was recorded by him. Pidge and Hunk stood side-by-side, as per usual, with Hunk standing next to Lance. Keith stood by Lance’s other side, and Shiro hovered behind him, arms crossed and knowing grin resting pleasantly on his handsome features.

“Ready Pidge?” Keith asked.

“Ready,” she said with a fiendish grin. 

The video started, and Keith could see the colour drain from Lance’s face almost immediately. The video depicted him at school, he and Pidge were in a heated argument that Hunk was recording, when out of nowhere, Allura walked by. Hunk captured it all. Lance’s attention snapped away from Pidge to Allura in an instant, his eyes wide but his grin wider. He shot up and called her name, waving as he did despite her back to him. He only put his arm down when she turned around to look at the stranger calling her name. It was an embarrassing introduction. Lance stumbled and stuttered and ended up confusing Allura into thinking he wanted her to join his bowling club —which their school definitely didn’t have. Keith had seen the clip before, and yet he was already clutching his stomach and laughing.

“Shut it, Keith!”

“She said no thank you! She thought you were captain of the Bowl Team!” Keith was cackling. It was ugly. Luckily for him, Shiro accepted this side of him a long time ago.

“God just. Just fast forward,” Lance begged. But Pidge did no such thing. Lance sat through every failed attempt at flirting with Allura over the span of several months, which included _countless_ cheesy medical pick-up lines.

“Shh, shh! This is my favourite one!” Pidge hissed. 

The setting was at the hospital. Lance had no reason to be there except to ask Allura out on a date. 

“Oh god, this one...” 

Keith turned to Shiro, who was covering half his face with his hand, failing to shield himself from the incoming second-hand embarrassment. Shiro had been the one to learn Allura’s schedule at the hospital and implore Lance ask her out _"Normally, Lance. No weird pickup lines or facial expressions.”_

Lance had failed. It was bad. Matt was the one who recorded this catastrophe. Lance tried leaning on a hospital bed, which _obviously_ had wheels, launching it across the hall and making him lose his footing. Allura caught Lance with ease, which seemed to entice Lance to open his mouth and spill the most heinous internet-recommended pickup line anyone in the household had ever heard: 

“Are you my appendix? Because I have a gut feeling I should take you out.”

Everyone groaned in unison, Shiro’s the loudest and most gut-wrenching. Pidge broke off into her predicted giggle-fit, and both Keith and Hunk simultaneously grabbed Lance’s shoulders to push his standing-figure back down onto the chair. The video wasn’t much longer after that, but the roasting lasted for quite some time. A top three pick-up line vote began, the winner being Keith’s chosen _"_ _The way you talk to me leaves me aphasic.”_

“Okay, okay. I get it! I’m cringey as fuck,” Lance grumbled after having bear witness to Hunk and Pidge re-enact Lance poorly attempting to hit on Allura —Hunk being the beautiful nurse and Pidge being the Captain of the Garrison Bowling Team.

“We’re doing this because we love you, Lance.” Shiro explained.

“You’re doing this because you’re getting back at me for all those times I did it to you guys.”

“Well yeah,” Keith chipped in. “But it’s not like it didn’t help.” Shiro flashed Keith a loving smile, the likes of which made Pidge gag and Hunk clasp his hands and flutter his lashes. “Now we’re helping you.”

“Allura’s coming over to my place tonight,” Shiro reminded his hopeless friend. “Just be yourself, Lance.” 

“Right. But normal me is a loser.”

“Uh, hello? Did you not just watch a fifteen-minute cringe compilation of yourself on Youtube just now? Was that just me?” Hunk asked while looking around the room.

“Right. Normal loser is better than super-loser,” Lance sighed. And then. “This is on fucking Youtube?!”

“That’s the spirit!” Keith grinned.

Lance removed himself from the folding chair, movements no longer restrained by his friends, and turned to face them with his hands on his hips.

“If I’m being myself, I should probably not go in the tux I rented, huh?”

Shiro audibly slapped his forehead, but Keith was too focused on being a good friend to turn around and see the other’s agony. Instead, Keith placed both hands on Lance’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes, like a father attempting to explain to his son what he did wrong.

“Probably not, Lance. This isn’t your wedding. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“It’s semi-formal Lance,” Pidge reminded him. 

“And you’re a stylish guy. Just wear what you would normally wear when we go out to a fancy dinner.”

Lance sighed but nodded. “Shiro? Can I try on some outfits and run them by you first?”

“’Course, buddy.”

Shiro gave Keith’s ass a quick smack as he walked by to follow Lance to his bedroom.

“Gross,” was all Pidge and Hunk said in synchrony, but neither truly meant it. After spending almost a year together, everyone had gotten used to Shiro and Keith’s semi-indecent public displays of affection. 

“Shaddap,” Keith said despite this. It had become his friend-group's running gag.

***

Keith didn’t like dancing when he didn’t know the songs. It was harder bouncing around to a beat he couldn’t predict and not being able to distract himself from his two-left feet by singing the lyrics at the top of his lungs with his best friends. Luckily for him, Shiro only dragged him into the living room for the slow dances. Keith didn’t have to think. With one hand tightly clasped in Shiro’s and the other resting comfortably on the other’s broad shoulder, Keith merely rested his cheek against his boyfriend’s collar and swayed side-to-side with him in rhythm with the music. 

“You seem sleepy,” Shiro mumbled into Keith’s ear. Keith shuddered at the warm air tickling his flushed skin. He was happily buzzed and hopelessly in love. “Do you think you can last ‘til the ball drops?”

“Mhm.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna stop dancing? Maybe nap on the couch a little?”

“I’m staying right here.”

Shiro chuckled and kissed Keith’s hair before pulling away to twirl him. Keith laughed and mirrored Shiro’s move, twirling his lover in turn. They came back together like magnets, the lazy swaying resumed and chaste kisses peppered throughout the night. Keith had his eyes closed for several minutes, basking in Shiro’s warmth when he heard a familiar laugh. He opened his eyes to catch Lance and Allura sitting on the couch, conversing amongst themselves. Lance looked relaxed, undoubtedly thanks to the glass of champagne in his hands, and Allura looked like she was genuinely enjoying the conversation. There wasn’t any awkwardness between them, or so it seemed. Lance gave Allura her space, and it seemed that is was _she_ who tried to reduce the distance between them. 

“Honestly, I sorta hate how the forced _“look how dumb you’re being”_ approach works so well,” Keith admitted. 

“Maybe you guys can cut it out after today. It’s almost the new year, right? You can make it a resolution.”

“We’ll see,” Keith smiled. He let his heavy lids fall shut once more and allowed Shiro to guide him around the living room in a slow, even cadence. It wasn’t until excited chatter picked up that Keith blinked away his drowsiness and glanced around the room. The music was cut off abruptly, and Shiro laughed as he pulled away to observe Keith’s pout. 

“It’s almost time,” he murmured against Keith’s lips. Keith expected a kiss, but Shiro parted before they could make contact. 

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” Shiro was grinning, his flushed cheeks apparent now that Matt turned on the lights, the consumed alcohol making its mark on his handsome features. Keith caressed Shiro’s cheek tenderly as the other guided them out of the television’s way, allowing Matt to switch to the ball drop. The partygoers gathered around, couples holding each other close and friends holding each other closer. Not a single person stood alone as the countdown began. 

Keith stood in front of Shiro as the other wrapped his arms around his stomach. 

_“Ten!”_

Keith felt his stomach flip with anticipation several times, his palms growing clammy as they rested on top of his boyfriend's. This was it. His first New Year’s with Shiro.

_“Nine!”_

It felt like an incredible milestone.

_“Eight!”_

He had never been with a partner on New Year’s Eve. He had never _had_ a partner so loving and devote as the one holding him closely in the present.

_“Seven!”_

Shiro meant to world to him. He was Keith’s support system. He held his own while expecting nothing in return, which only made Keith want to give as much of himself to Shiro as he could.

_“Six!”_

Keith looked around and smiled at his friends. They were nothing but kind to him. They encouraged and took care of Keith over the years in a way he could only describe as unconditional affection.

_“Five!”_

He felt the same way about each of them, of course. They were his family.

_“Four!”_

And so was Shiro.

_“Three!”_

Maybe it wouldn’t happen this year, nor the year after, but one day they would make the title official.

_“Two!”_

Keith’s smile widened as Shiro squeezed him tightly. To think this very room started it all.

_“One! Happy New Year!”_

Shiro spun Keith around and kissed him with vigor. Keith giggled until Shiro released his lips in favour of peppering his cheeks multiple times.

“I love you,” he murmured between his pecks. “I love you so, _so_ much Keith.”

“I love you too,” Keith whispered. He attempted to kiss Shiro in return as he fought against the tears in his eyes and the constriction in his throat. He refused to drunkenly cry over how much he loved Shiro until they were tucked away in his boyfriend’s bedroom, concealed from prying eyes and shielded from the knowing smirks of his friends and loved ones.

 

***

 

Keith would have no choice but to endure those looks three years later while standing at the altar of his and Shiro’s wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who supported me in 2018. I appreciate all the kind comments this fic has received. I'm so sorry for taking my sweet time replying, but I have read and smiled at each and every one.
> 
> This fic was fun to write. Some chapters were part of the 69min challenge on twitter, which was a huge motivator for me to write more Sheith. I hope to continue writing these sweet boys in 2019.
> 
> Again, thank you for taking the time to read my story! ♥

**Author's Note:**

> @Kroligane :^)


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